They say the World was built for two
by AryaNuanen
Summary: After being more disappointed of the end of Arya and Eragon than I can say, I will now try to write on their way to their "epic romance", even though it won't be as smooth as some others might think it to be.. Rating will change AXE
1. Proloque  Sailing East

**Proloque**

„_You've got to go to sleep… It's the third night since we left and you didn't do so much as close your eyes. You're tired."_

Eragon lowered his head. He knew she was right. He stood at the small bull's-eye of his cabin on the _Talítha _and stared out into the darkness. The reflections of the moonlight on the waters were very beautiful. He couldn't make himself enjoy the sight.

Three nights without sleep. Not that much for an elf, but the exertions of travelling, the unused movement of the ship and the emotional ups and downs had exhausted him far beyond his limit. He was afraid his legs would give in every moment, his eye lids felt very heavy. He knew he should try to lay down, but he also knew that if he did, he wouldn't be able to find any peace. It had been this way for the last three nights.

As much as he tried to look straight ahead to the task that indeed attracted him and as much as he reveled in the joy of the saved Eldunarí and Dragon eggs, he couldn't defy the deep sadness within him. His dissatisfaction grew with every mile that made the distance between them even vaster. His heart clenched at the thought.

"_Little one…"_

"_I know, Saphira, I know."_

He only made things harder for him allowing thoughts like this.

But not thinking about her was impossible. More than ever she dominated his thoughts, pushed herself into the foreground of his mind, even when he was thinking about something entirely different.

He looked up. A cloud shoved itself in front of the moon. He knew the feeling.

"_But how can I help it? A curtain lies on the world. Everything I see and feel is clouded by a shadow that leaves nothing left for me. Everything is grey and dump. The world's got a hole and I am just half…"_

A tear rolled down his cheek. He felt Saphira's sadness and pity, even though she tried to suppress it.

"_It will pass by… Eragon, you should try…"_

"_To forget her?", _he interrupted her, a tad sharper as he intended to_, "Forgive me."_

He felt a curious feeling coming from their shared link. It was the equal of an amused wink of her eye. He was already forgiven.

"_No. Not to forget. None of us can do that. But we can change our point of view. Don't cry because it's over, be happy because you have such a good friend and, more than anything else, because you know she is happy where she is. She is not alone anymore. Fírnen will watch over her."_

"_Nobody deserves happiness as much as she does."_

"_I know, little one. She will be fine. And you will be fine, too."_

Eragon breathed in deeply. Love grew inside his heart. It couldn't completely quell the despair of his loss, but it somewhat soothed the sharp pain deep inside his chest. He could breathe a bit easier again.

"_I love you, Saphira. As long as you are still by my side, I will always go on."_

"_I love you too, my little one. And now lay down. Again dawn is fast approaching and the elves will insist to sail on early."_

He agreed with her and could hardly fight back the weariness anymore. Shuffling he went to his modest bed and laid down his heavy limbs. He longed for a deep, refreshing sleep. He wished he could but forget the pain for a few hours.

And, even though his thoughts and feelings continued to circulate around just one topic, he felt himself fall slowly into his waking dreams. Sleep came to him, yet his dreams were a mess of feelings and pictures he could neither place nor understand. He seemed to know the dim figures and places, but his sight was clouded. He found little peace in his sleep.

For the world's got a hole and he was only half.

* * *

><p>I hope you liked it this far. It's by far not the first story I wrote, but it's the first one I publish. I will try to write this as fluently as I can, but don't be let down if I may take some time to upload a new chapter. Be reassured I know how it feels to wait for the author of a story you like to update… and wait… and wait… ;) I know exactly where this story will lead to and where it shall end, so be confident, I WILL write it to its hopefully better ending.<p>

Constructive criticism, give it to me! But be nice, guys ;)


	2. Chapter 1  Settling down

**Chapter 1**

_That's the way it should be. We found it._

That's what Eragon thought, floating between the clouds on the back of his magnificent dragon lady. Silent contentment spread inside his chest as the land unfolds beneath him. Behind them only a few leagues of fertile plains separated them from the shores of the river where the _Talítha _currently anchored, ahead a landscape sprawled which was dominated by the peaks of various chains of mountains. The mountains there were mostly higher than those of the Spine, but by far not as gigantic as the Beors. A dragon could easily fly over or around the snow-covered peaks.

"_And look at these valleys", _whispered Eragon though the connection of their minds.

Saphira knew what he meant. Between the mountain chains lay valleys of every size and shape, more multifaceted as the flowers in a summer's lawn: Narrow and broad, some timbered, some completely filled by massive lakes, others made out of canyons of slate and sandstone.

"_There is enough space here for flocks of dragons – for thunders of dragons!", _she added amused, "_Enough caves for breeding and enough game to hunt."_

"_It's easy to defend against every enemy, unless he travels high above the skies on dragon wings. It's a tad as I felt long ago in Ellesméra. At the same time inside and outside. Who needs a fortress or protective charms when you are surrounded by mountains higher than every wall in this world?"_

"_How very right you are, my little one. These peaks keep us our enemies at bay and our protégées within our grasp. At least in a curtain way."_

Eragon nodded. It would be important in the beginning to have the young and wild dragons bound to an area; and they wouldn't leave their valleys for the time being when they were surrounded merely by plain… plains.

"_Let's head back to the ship, Saphira. I want to talk to Blödhgarm and the others and hear their opinions. But I don't think we could find something that would better fit our demands than this."_

With these words the dragon lady turned her tail on the impressing landscape, all shimmering and sparkling in the light of the morning sun, and made her way back to the congregation of dragons and elves which were now their family – or would soon be.

* * *

><p>With Saphira's support Eragon and the elves were able to build up a provisory encampment as well as ferrying all of their belongings and other equipment into the valley within the next two weeks. For now the camp merely counted a few tents and a rapidly build up wooden hut which, reinforced with several protective spells, was used as a temporary storage room for the Eldunarí and dragon eggs.<p>

_See here, _Eragon thought wryly, _the glorious beginning of the home of the next generation of Dragon Riders._

The strains of the last weeks had sobered him increasingly. It had been clear to him from the very beginning that the erection of an actual city would take the better part of a decade – if not longer – but only for a few days now he was aware of the difficulty of his quest. Every day he was exposed to a myriad of obstacles he had to wring out of his way, to a thousand questions and parameters to consider.

How large shall the new city get in the end? Is there enough space for that in the chosen valley? Should they begin with the works in a central spot so that the city would be allowed to spread in every direction or at the end of the valley, close to the mountains? What was best to begin with and how to order the different establishment he imagined?

This and other questions forced him to look farther into the future as he felt at ease with. And he wanted to make the right decisions – it would be… uncomfortable if they had to rebuild their home again and again because this and that wasn't fitting at all.

_I wish Arya was here, _a thought passed through his mind, _Or Nasuada, or even Murtagh. I wish _anybody _was here. They would know what to do._

But deep inside he knew that he was just as able to cope with the situation as they were and that this wishes were just an expression of his longing and the desire to escape the loneliness that threatened to build up inside him more and more.

Driven by this feelings he decided to contact Nasuada this very evening, the only one of his closest friend he was able to reach for the moment.

* * *

><p>Again his duties absorbed him far longer than he anticipated; it was late in the evening when he was able to give in to his wishes. Now he knelt on his cot eyeing the small round mirror he had placed on the cushion in front of him in a way which allowed Saphira, who had stuck her head through the flap of the tent, to see into it, too.<p>

Eragon took a last deep breath, then he cast the spell to connect him with the mirror in Nasuada's study. The surface waved for a moment, as being rather fluid than glass, before the picture of a large desk appeared. On this desk there was a vase with lilac flowers, behind it a chair made of a cedar's wood; the rest of the room was filled by a gigantic book shelf. He examined the familiar perspective for a while, then he heard fast footsteps quickly coming closer. Only fractions of a second later Nasuada appeared, coming to a stop in front of her desk, her eyes shining.

"Eragon."

"Nasuada", replied Eragon and felt a smile graze his features, "Be greeted." He touched his lips with the tips of two fingers.

"I have already been waiting for news from you and your companions. Where are you? As I see you have steady ground underneath your feet again."

"In deed. We followed the river's course for close to three weeks until we found suitable lands. The river flows more or less straight east and most of the time we have been sailing through flat and empty plains which don't have the preconditions we require, nor did they attract me in any way. But two weeks ago we discovered…"

And so he told her of the mountains and valleys, the forests and lakes they found and of their hitherto progress in building a camp. After asking some quite impersonal questions about his other plans and intentions, Nasuada began to report him of her own kingdom and the countless decisions she had to make every waking hour, of her negotiations with Orik and Orrin, the last who still hadn't turned into a more likeable company yet.

A deep melancholy gripped Eragon while he listened to her. Now that he hadn't seen his friends and confidantes as well as the land itself for a while, he felt more than ever what he left behind. A thousand memories and feelings flashed behind his and Saphira's eyes; he had to bite back the tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

And then, after a long moment of hesitation, Nasuada said:

"I spoke to Arya yesterday evening by the way. She and Fírnen agreed to your plans considering the games which all people are allowed to attend. "

Eragon jerked in his sitting position, his gaze suddenly becoming very clear, his heart picking up a faster beat. Even Saphira, who had mostly abstained their conversation, straightened her neck.

"Are they there?", he tried to control the longing in his voice as good as possible, "I would like to speak to her. I cannot reach her in Du Weldenvarden because of the spells of protection the elves still defend themselves and their forest with."

"I know", Nasuada's eyes turned very soft now, "I regret to say that you missed her. She left for Ellesméra yesterday in the early morning."

Disappointment stabbed him like an icy dagger into his chest. He lowered his eyes for a second.

"I see. When you see her again, or correspond with her in any way, could you deliver her my invitation to speak with her here? Only if you would lend us your mirror for some time, of course…", he added, smiling.

"I will", Nasuada answered, smiling too, "But I don't know when I will see her again, I hope you are aware of that. It could by days, it could be months till I hear of her again."

"Yes, I am aware of that. I will contact you again when my and your time can afford it – or you will contact me. We will talk again someday, I hope sooner rather than later, and I will just hope that you will bring me some good news then. I don't know, I – "

He hesitated and looked for a very long moment very deeply into her eyes; a mirthless smile appeared on his face.

"Nasuada, I am afraid we are all a bunch of lovesick fools."

She froze for a second, surprised of his words and the hint about his brother, too. Eragon's smile broadened in a wry way, yet his eyes remained sad.

Then she answered him by laughing just as joylessly.

* * *

><p>So, here I am again… It took me a while longer to post this than I thought, I will try to do better the next time ;)<p>

Bear with me if this story still is quite sad and not really going anywhere yet, but I am still in the process of building up. I wanted already to have Eragon's and Arya's talk in the mirror in this chapter, too, but after writing and ending his dialog with Nasuada I found it a fitting end, writing on and adding now his talk with Arya would have made the chapter somehow… un-round, you know. So, we will have this the next time.

Just for an outlook, it will take me some more chapter's to write about Eragon's and Arya's position after the separation, and then I will try as smoothly as possible to lead their way back to their reunion. I am already excited about writing it ;)

So, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, (I hope to get them longer in the process,too), leave some reviews please, and a merry Christmas to you and your families!

AryaNuanen


	3. Chapter 2  To talk through a Mirror

**Chapter 2**

The weeks were passing quickly for Eragon and Saphira, both of them working hard every day to build the new city of the Dragon Riders. As he had already recognised shortly after their landing, planning and building were tedious work, but they gained some visible progress these last two weeks, which lit up his mood. After more than three months of work, the first hall was standing.

He knew that this rather fast set-up wasn't only a product of healthy ambition, but also grew out of his desire to labour his sadness away. As he had already experienced on several occasions in his life, having something to do was helping him to push his depressive feelings far into the back of his mind.

The problem was they weren't staying there. And he was straining himself with this problem nearly every night when he sank into his bed.

* * *

><p>"<em>Greetings, Shadeslayer."<em>

"_Greetings, Blödhgarm", _answered Eragon after allowing him the contact with his mind, "_What is the matter so early in this beautiful morning?"_

And beautiful it was. It was the beginning of summer season and already warm, even though the morning dew still clung to the grass, the trees and all the other plants all around him. He was walking through the forests which bordered on their yet-to-be-build city. The sun was already shining vividly through the canopy of the trees – pine trees, mostly.

"_The High Queen is the matter, Eragon. She appeared in the mirror but a few minutes ago."_

Eragon came to an instant halt. He was already taking the first step to lead him back to their home as Blödhgarm, recognising the decision within Eragon's mind, said:

"_You need not hurry, nor interrupt your walk. She did not have the time to await your return and so left me with a message for you."_

"_And what message is that, Blödhgarm?"_

"_It was no pressing matter on her behalf. She wanted me to pass on to you that she will contact you again a fortnight from today, at sunset. She also wanted you to know, and I am quoting now, "that two others of importance will be awaiting your presence, too." She said you would know what to do with that. I think you do, and so do I."_

Eragon had long halted his every movement, gazing into the depths of the forest without really seeing anything. On Blödhgarm's last sentences he felt his fingers involuntary twitching.

"_Yes, I do. Thank you for delivering her message to me",_ he felt Blödhgarm being slightly amused at his bewilderment and grinned, "_This will be interesting. I don't really know how I should feel about that anymore."_

Blödhgarm's amusement drained away and fed into something much more gentle.

"_I understand your predicament, Eragon, and you have my sympathy for that. How can this be easy in any way?", _he teased now, trying to cheer up the Rider who has become his friend, "_Matters_ _ of dragons are hard enough for one to deal with, but matters between men and queens? You are sure to be lost there."_

* * *

><p><em>I am early. Ways too early. The sun isn't even close to set yet.<em>

Taking a deep breath Eragon sat down in front of the mirror. He looked into it once and felt the sudden need to straighten the strands of his hair, smiling wryly while doing so and feeling ridiculous a moment later. He approached this meeting with split feelings and wasn't sure what he was to expect – neither from Arya nor from himself.

On the one hand he longed dearly for her, yearning to just see her face and hear her voice again so much that it felt like tearing him apart from the inside. But on the other hand – he was afraid.

Because whatever happens, whatever he wished for, they would remain separated in the end, and he wasn't sure how to cope with that. What is there to say to someone you hold so dearly, yet was so far away without any hope for both of that to change?

His heart was screaming for her, but his mind wasn't sure whether he was doing himself any good with that. He was very afraid.

Yet already decided just to take whatever might happen to him, at least for today, he looked around his room to distract himself. For by now, the mirror wasn't standing in a tent anymore of course, but in one of the small rooms within the first building of theirs. For now this was his dwelling room, and it would probably stay like this for quite some time. It wasn't much, just a bed, a desk, a chair, a small dresser and this mirror. It was enough for now; he didn't need more anyway.

"_Well, a _little _more space wouldn't be too bad", _he heard Saphira sneer in the back of his head. He grinned.

"_For what? With all the bulk you possess you wouldn't fit in anyway. By the by, are you on your way?"_

"_I am. But don't try to sidetrack: You say you think I am fat?"_

At that Eragon had to laugh out aloud, the voice of his mind not being enough anymore.

"_Peace, my love. My one and only love. Of course you could never be anything but perfect."_

At that he felt a curious sensation through their link; she might have puffed some smoke out of her nostrils.

"_Rightly so."_

And he still grinned as the surface of the mirror suddenly shivered and, an instant later, revealed again Nasuada. Differently from their previous talk she now wasn't standing in her study, but in what seemed to be a vast courtyard with fountains and flowers and trees and benches. By the way, she obviously was early, too.

Eragon touched his lips with two fingers, all the while smiling at her, his eyes warm.

"Be greeted, your Majesty."

Nasuada imitated his movement, one corner of her mouth lifting slightly.

"Be greeted, Leader of the Riders."

Eragon chuckled.

"What Riders am I leading? The only two there are besides me are fairly out of reach of my leading."

While he spoke this he thought he saw the air move beside Nasuada, as well as hearing the shuffling of what might have been a pair of dragon wings. He breathed in excitedly.

"Maybe so, but it won't stay like this, will it?", Nasuada drew his attention towards her again, "But enough of this jesting around now, how are you faring?"

He exchanged some more pleasantries with her and also gave her a short summary of their further advances, but she seemed to feel his distraction and excused herself little time later.

As she stepped out of his sight, another person strode smoothly into his range of vision and all of the sudden it was Arya standing in front of him. She let her gaze rest intently upon him, her eyes both warm and sombre at the same time.

"Atra esterní ono thelduin, Eragon Shadeslayer", she spoke, touching her lips while Fírnen shoved his head in front of the mirror and laid it down beside Arya. Eragon heard him growling deeply in recognition and blinking with a giant emerald eye.

Eragon just had to smile back pressing his fore- and middle finger against his lips, too.

"Un du Evarínya ono varda, Fírnen un Arya Dröttning."

A moment of silence followed after Eragon spoke his part of the elven greeting, yet it wasn't an uncomfortable one. Both of them were considering the other, watching intently and learning. Eragon felt a warmth spread inside of him, a part of him now feeling whole and sound as though it had never been any differently. Other parts of him felt the pain of seeing something he craved so dearly, but was so far out of reach. Before he could dwell more on this feelings however, Arya began to speak.

"Nasuada told me you are settled and I listened to you speaking before, but I still don't know anything more specific about your dwelling place. Would you tell me about it?"

"Of course. After three weeks on the water we were sailing past the foothills of a large mountain range, not as gigantic as the Beors, but with vast valleys and forests in between. There was enough space for us and everything we need and so I decided to take a closer look. We all did so, and finding the land suitable and seemingly uninhabited, we moved on to choosing one of the valleys, but I think you already know about all that so far", she gave a nod, after that he smiled, "You should see it, Arya, it's so very beautiful. We will build the city in the middle of a plain field on the foot of the mountains, on the other side is a forest of young and friendly pines and firs growing and just half a league away there is a large lake in the middle of the woods, feeding from a cool mountain stream. You can find here really anything you could wish for both for the eye and for function. The dragons will find enough food in here and there are plenty of caves of every size in the mountains. The only thing missing now is a name. I am quite tired of thinking and speaking always about "the valley" and "the city", but the only names that come to my mind are either too simple or ridiculous. Maybe you can think of something?"

"Hhmm", Arya murmured and crooked her head sideward in thought, "I will think about it, but actually I'd rather say it is your own decision to make. It's your home and how could I think of a fitting name without having ever seen it? I wouldn't worry too much about it, the right name will come to you in time."

"Perhaps you are right", Eragon admitted, revelling at how _right _it felt just to talk to her, even about such frivolous topics. For a moment he looked silently into her shimmering eyes, "So tell me about you. How are things going for you?"

She spoke to him for quite a long time, told him about rebuilding and politics, about treaties and other negotiations, but she never once spoke about herself. And it was at that, that Eragon recognized something was different.

"_Don't judge her too harshly, Eragon", _heheard Saphira's voice in his mind; she was already close now, _"The times are hard on her, too. You cannot expect her to jump for joy."_

"_I do not. But I don't want her to be unhappy."_

Arya had finished her report but a few seconds ago, but his unresponsiveness and aloof gaze made her raising her eyebrows at him. He cringed and focused again, looking at her with caution. He just had to ask her.

"Arya... Are you well?"

"I am fine enough", she answered immediately. But out of the corner of his eye he could see Fírnen's large eye looking at them in turns, he seemed to talk to Arya for a moment. At that she seemed to relax a bit.

"You are sure?"

Oh, he knew it was not easy, it wasn't by far easy on him, and it wouldn't be easy on her either.

"I mean... How do you feel?", and he knew she would understand the question in the proper way, "Are you happy, Arya?"

She looked at him for a very long time, her eyes never wavering, betraying nothing. He felt his heart sinking.

"It's hard to tell sometimes whether you are happy. Most of the time you don't know and will always only recognise if you are not. But I feel... _content. _Do not worry._"_

At that he saw her eyes getting softer and felt somewhat relieved. Still the hurt won't go away.

"That is good", he answered, yet his eyes were downcast. He knew that she wouldn't give more away.

"And you?", he heard her ask, his gaze snapping back to meet hers, "Are you happy?"

He looked at her for a long moment before answering.

"I am fine with the task I set myself and I am looking forward to what this place will become and to what I want to do here. But -am I happy? No. Not yet. Or _content_? Not yet."

There was a silence between them once again and somehow he could feel the some emotion emitting from Saphira's mind as he could see in Arya's eyes.

"Eragon...", she spoke, very softly now, "Don't fret yourself about what you cannot change. You have to go on. Live in the present and don't dwell too much on the pains of the past."

"Should I turn my back on everything I cherish just because I cannot reach it anymore?", he replied, feeling somewhat hurt at her speech; even though knowing that she meant only well, "No, I will not forget you or Roran or Nasuada, or Murtagh for that matter. Family is still family even if a thousand miles apart."

He locked on to her gaze seeing her eyes widen a tiny little bit, seeing _something_ moving behind them. Even Fírnen now lifted his head from the lawn he had rested it on.

Nearly overpowered by emotion, Eragon pressed his hand against the cold surface of the mirror.

" I will _not_ forgetyou. I will _not_ lose you", his voice trembled slightly, yet he spoke with conviction and thought to himself, _Even if this feeling is unbearable sometimes. Even if I will never see you again._

Somehow, he knew what he said was true. Somehow, what he said made him scared. Somehow, he was sure that Arya knew all of that.

Because after a long moment, she took an hesitant step forward, raised her arm very slowly and laid her hand on the opposite side of the hard glass. Pressing it against his.

Eragon couldn't look away from their hands. From all you could _see_ they were touching; as he thought about the distance that was actually between them, he felt sick. He locked eyes with Arya, as she whispered very quietly and very softly:

"I am so sorry..."

He felt a shiver run down his spine.

Before he could give an answer however, or before he could even think about an answer, Saphira chose that moment to stick her head through the vast window of Eragon's room, humming loudly to greet both Arya and Fírnen. The three of them jerked out of their positions at the sudden "intruder" appeared, Eragon's and Arya's hands were torn apart. A strange moment followed were both of them tried to collect themselves again, doing so successfully.

Then Saphira spoke through Eragon to Fírnen and Arya, and Fírnen was talking back through his Rider, too. They were conversing for a few minutes, but only about the most trivial matters. The two dragons were more communicating with body language or sounds but with words, enjoying to see the other again. In the middle of that he saw Arya turning her head, she seemed to listen to someone talking, turning back seconds later.

"We have to go now, Bjartskular, Shadeslayer", she twisted her hand in front of her chest, adding: "May the stars watch over you."

Eragon replied swiftly, feeling a slight panic rise in his chest at the prospect of having to let her go again.

"Fair winds to you both, Fírnen and Arya. Until we meet again."

"Until we meet again."

Eragon might have imagined the regret in her voice, but he wasn't sure. Just as he was thinking this the surface of the mirror shivered again, Arya and Fírnen vanishing from his view, leaving him looking into his own eyes. He touched the glass again.

"_Saphira, as you came in, did you see – "_

"_Yes, I did."_

"_Then why – " _

"_I did what a dragon has to do for her Rider. You were going to hurt yourself, even more as you already did. I saved you."_

After a short consideration he had to admit that she was right.

* * *

><p>Aaah... Sad again. But we go our way.<p>

I hope you liked that chappie, the next one will be Arya's POV and we will have a tiny time skip in-between ;) I will try to post it next weekend, but I cannot give a guarantee...

By the way, I will re-name this fanfic to "They say the world was meant for two" in the next few days, so don't get a shock if the link isn't working anymore or something like that...

I was never really satisfied with "When we stand together" and just chose it because

I couldn't think of anything better,

and didn't want to give it a name with epic romance or love or whatever in it like thousands before

I was determined to release the prologue directly after writing it -

and was listening to the song of nickelback as I did so

Now I am choosing something from a song again, I know, but after listening more intently to video games I just found this line (and the refrain as a whole) SO beautiful, and SO fitting and I had to think SO much of Arya and Eragon as I heard it, that I just have to do this now. Just don't be confused if the title changes, ah, and I will add titles for the chapter, too.

Now, another thing about my spelling/grammar: I know there might be some mistakes, more or less. For the spelling: Blame the dictionary of microsoft word. For the grammar: Keep in mind that this is not my mother tongue, I am really trying my very best! And to be honest, it feels to much an effort for me to write this story with a beta, so just bear my mistakes, ignore them or don't.

(of course help is appreciated if you detect some major mistake)

Thanks a lot for your reviews! Leave some more ;)

AryaNuanen


	4. Chapter 3  Stalking Stars

**Chapter 3 – Stalking Stars**

"_Arya..."_

The person in question slowly opened her eyes, her gaze meeting the familiar view of what used to be Oromis' hut on the crags of Tel'naeír. After becoming queen she decided to stay here as it was the place she raised Fírnen and because it was easier here for him to stay close to her. There wasn't much space for dragons in Tialdarí-Hall.

It was late in the night by now. For a moment she enjoyed the strange magnificence which even her most ordinary belongings had adopted as they were bathed in moonlight.

"_What is it, Fírnen? I was almost asleep...", _she replied, her voice much more gentle than her words implied.

"_You will be thankful for my rousing in all but a second. Come outside, there is another one arriving."_

It took her much less than a second to realize what her dragon was talking about and to sit straight up in her bed, all sleepiness forgotten. Filled with pleasant anticipation and somewhat excited she stepped out of bed and lumbered barefooted to the door.

Once outside she strode quickly to Fírnen's side, who laid close at the edge of the crag which overlooked the vast sea of pines of Du Weldenvarden. She followed his gaze, searching for the tiny object in the air, the darkness causing no problem for her strong eyes.

She discovered it almost immediately even though it was still quite far away. Thus she had to wait for another five minutes or so till a small boat, made out of fibres of grass and other plants, floated gently into her outstretched hands. There was a tender smile on her face as she closed her delicate fingers around the fragile construction. Fírnen watched her curiously as she sat down cross-legged beside him to examine the tiny boat.

It wasn't much larger than her hand measured from the tip of her middle finger to the heel of her hand. The blades of grass, though green as they were plucked she was sure, had already begun to wither, some of them had already turned into a muddy yellow. The mast of the ship, a strong stipe of Cyperaceae, looked crooked and dry, just as the tulip leaves which were its sails.

Yet it was one of the most beautiful things she saw for months. Because, considering the vast distance she knew the tiny thing had to overcome, it was in an exemplary condition. And this, more than anything else, revealed the skill and devotion its builder had invested in it.

It was made so good and perfect. It was so beautiful. And it was just for her. She smiled.

"_How much longer do you want to stare at this grass-thing?", _Fírnen asked her and so brought her attention back to her surroundings, "_Don't you want to know what is inside today?"_

"_Of course I do. Why can't I bask in my anticipation for a while?"_

He puffed some smoke out of his nostrils and nudged her shoulder for an answer. Giving up, Arya gently pulled the blades of the deck apart and cautiously took the twofold flexed piece of paper out of its womb. With building excitement she unfolded it to read the lines which were written in a now familiar handwriting:

_**There is never a way back**_

_**Do you still remember -**_

_**Childhood… wonderful…**_

_**The world of colours and beauty**_

_**Until there comes a time**_

_**When you begin to understand**_

_**There won't be a reunion**_

_**After every goodbye**_

_**Always onwards, step for step**_

_**There is never a way back**_

_**What is now will never be undone**_

_**Time keeps running away from us**_

_**What is done is done**_

_**What is now will never be undone**_

_**There is never a way back**_

_**If I only could but once**_

_**Turn back the wheels of time**_

_**'Cause, how much of what I know today**_

_**I would have rather never seen**_

_**There is never a way back**_

_**Your life only spins in circles**_

_**Full of thrown-away time**_

_**Your dreams you procrastinate eternally**_

_**You want to live, someday, somehow…**_

_**But if not today, so when?**_

_**Because, someday, even a dream is too long ago**_

_**There is never a way back**_

She read through it twice, soaking up the words written by his hand and trying to see, to understand what could have made him write something like this. It was a sad but beautiful poem, written with feeling and understanding. It was aware of space and time. It was quite a good piece of poetry.

She wondered if it was about her. And a second later, she wondered if she was overcompensating.

But it brought an issue back to her mind that she was dwelling on for several weeks already.

"_Where are you going?",_ Fírnen asked, feeling her intentions as she stood abruptly.

"_I don't know for sure. I will let my feet go their own way."_

"_Do what you must. But do you really think you will find an answer to your question out there?"_

She shrugged her shoulders, feeling slightly uneasy.

"_I have to come to a decision now or it will soon be too late."_

She stroked Fírnen once down his jaw for a short goodbye. This was a path she had to walk on her own.

"_You are talking as though it was a decision of life and death."_

She laughed out softly, her eyes sparkling for a short fraction of time.

"_No, not one of life and death, but a hard one nonetheless. Though it all would feel so insignificant for a stranger...", _she shook her head once.

"_Sometimes", _Fírnen spoke with a strange tilt in his voice, "_Sometimes the seemingly insignificant decisions turn out to be the most significant of our lives."_

* * *

><p>Only minutes later Arya was alone. She was alone and walking slowly underneath the canopy of pines, where barely a flicker of moonlight reached the ground. Even for her eyes the forest was only dimly lit. Yet she didn't care. She felt herself relax in the quiet of the darkness and her solitude, felt herself entering the qualm state of mind she would require to solve her problem. Almost subconsciously her thoughts came back to the poem in the grassboat over and over again.<p>

It wasn't the first one of its kind to find her. She didn't know how many of them came to her over all these years, bringing songs, poems and short stories of apparently randomly chosen topics to her, all of them written in the same handwriting, in the handwriting of a friend and confidant.

Nowadays, this was the only way they stayed in touch.

For after that rather painful talk through Nasuada's mirror they had never seen nor met nor spoke to each other in person again.

This development had never been of her intention, nor, or so she thought, of his, but she could perfectly understand why he hesitated to expose himself to a conversation like this again and she didn't want to force it upon him to see or talk to her.

It wasn't necessary to make life any harder than it already is, to cause yourself more pain than you had to. Because they both, or rather, all the four of them had known that they won't see each other again for a very, very long time.

And then, the first grassboat arrived. It came to her at night, like this one, and it made her heart jolt like nothing had for a very long time as it floated in gentle up-and-down movements towards her. She couldn't think what to make out of its content at first, wasn't sure if he wanted to tell her something in particular with the poem it contained and the words he wrote on the backside of the paper. Because there always stood the same words: _In deepest affection_, and the date he sent off the letter.

But then the next arrived, and then the next and so on, all of them with the most different kinds of writings. They were about this and that, some made her sad, some made her glad, others made her laugh, others were just for her and others were _about_ her. And she realized that he just wanted to share _something _with her, something of his deepest thoughts, yet without the pain or the frustration their relation was drenched with.

As she had understood this she decided to write back. And so she had sent off her own grassboats, letting them take their journey with writings of her own to the unknown lands behind the horizon to bring comfort to someone she held dear like no one else before. The thought and feeling of this made her feel at peace with herself.

And after every piece of paper she had sent to him she kept eagerly on waiting for his "response", feeling a closeness to him when receiving his writings like no other. For this was Eragon writing to Arya, friend to friend, with love and care.

Because his other letters, the letters he was sending through a visiting Rider or some other kind of messenger, this letters of duty and politic, this were letters from the Leader of the Riders to the Queen of the Elves. They still were written with warm words, but of course held none of the intimacy of their grassboat-letters.

And now, as she meandered apparently aimlessly through the woods, now she was afraid of an idea her own mind came to think of. Because, since she came to cherish this kind of consequence-less "closeness in distance", she was afraid to break it. And if she really did what her mind came up with so recklessly, she _would _break it. But another part of her, and not a small one either, wanted her to do it, even if it meant to risk a confrontation with long-buried feelings.

She didn't know what Eragon's feelings considering their separation were _now_, but for her it was a double-edged sword: She knew that both of them only did what they deemed necessary, but it was far from being without regret on her part. For she knew she didn't feel for him as strongly as he did all this time ago, yet she _did_ have to leave her best friend, her only confidant besides her dragon and someone she shared all of her being with. It was a devastating loss for both of them.

Like a flood of water an old and unpleasant memory pushed itself into her mind:

_They watched the _Talítha _sail on and disappear into the darkness beyond, watched the shape of Saphira wane as well in the increasing distance. Slowly they made their way back to Roran who still stood at the shore, also gazing after the ship._

"I should have never left him after the battle in Urû'baen. I should have asked him to come with me to my mother's funeral, and to come with me as I took your egg to Ellesméra. Then he would have known. And I would have known and never had accepted the throne...", _she thought bitterly to herself._

"Arya...", _Fírnen spoke to her,_ "You hurt yourself unnecessarily. What is done is done. You cannot change the past. You know that, why do I have to remind you of it?"

_She lowered her head, feeling a slowly increasing pain in her chest. Fírnen now circled high above Roran, giving his Rider some time to compose herself._

"I know. It's just... just look at the odds! It was misfortune upon misfortune. Don't get me wrong, I don't regret becoming queen, but... I wouldn't have taken the crown if I knew he were to leave with the eggs and the Eldunarí. I would have gone with him. I would have build the Riders anew with him. You and Saphira would still be together. And for Eragon and me... I don't know, but maybe... Just maybe..."

_Despite his words she felt Fírnen's regret mingle with hers as she spoke and their combined despair nearly made her black-out. She heard Fírnen give a heart-breaking wail, a lament for their loss and the bitter game fate played with them. She tapped against his shoulder._

"Come on, Roran will be waiting."

_With her words Fírnen relaxed the muscles of his strong wings, spiralling towards the ground slowly, still biding their time and letting Arya brushing off the tears that were running down her cheeks._

The heartache she felt after his leave-taking took its time to go by. It were many weeks that she felt very lonely, despite Fírnen, for not being alone doesn't mean you cannot feel lonely. The pain dulled in time as it always did, yet a fragment remained within her, stabbing and annoying her whenever she expect it the least. This was one of the things she couldn't bring herself to show him while they spoke through the mirror.

But she felt better now after this long, long time, distracted by the work that was constantly waiting for her and comforted by Fírnen – and the letters that came with the grassboats. Yet better was not good, and sometimes she still missed him dearly.

All the while she was walking on, ever deeper into the forest, walking farther than a human would have felt comfortable with, and she knew subconsciously were her feet were taking her.

She wondered how Eragon felt by now. Was he feeling better now, too? She was quite sure he was. No heart can carry a pain this long and this intensive. She was sure he was off fine, with all the others now with him.

But on the other hand, there was one of Eragon's poems, one that she knew by heart; despite the hurt and sadness in it, it was one of her favourite. It wasn't so long ago that he sent her this, just a few years, and it made her wonder if she was right with her suggestions:

_**So silent**_

_**That each one of us knew**_

_**This here is for eternity**_

_**For eternity and one life**_

_**And it was so silent**_

_**That each one of us knew**_

_**For this there is no word**_

_**That could ever describe this feeling.**_

_**So silent**_

_**That all the clocks stopped working**_

_**Yes, time itself stopped beating**_

_**So silent and lost I went away**_

_**So silent and lost I walked away**_

_**I listened to so much and yet**_

_**It never reached my ears**_

_**The reason why I cannot go to sleep at night**_

_**Even if I write a thousand songs about longing**_

_**Doesn't mean I understand**_

_**Why this feeling remains within**_

_**So loud**_

_**The times after the impact**_

_**To consider everything and understand**_

_**And it was so loud**_

_**That every thought brought nothing but emptiness to us**_

_**So loud and so lost it was here**_

_**As silence dwelled with me and not you**_

_**Even if I write a thousand songs about longing**_

_**Doesn't mean I understand**_

_**Why this feeling remains within**_

She didn't know what to make out of this. It could be about her. It could be about Alagaësia as a whole, his former home. It could be about something entirely else. But she wondered.

Finally she slowed down as she reached what might have been her destination from the very beginning. Devoutly she took her last steps forward, entering a small meadow like thousand others deep within Du Weldenvarden. Yet for her it was a unique place.

She came to a halt as she stood beneath the open skies and closed her eyes solemnly. For a moment she only concentrated on what was surrounding her: The light breeze of a summer night on her only scantily clad skin; the smell of wood and rich clay in the air, the sound of the wind in the trees, the soft moss underneath her bare feet… She remained listening like this till she felt her body practically humming, becoming one with the subtle symphony of the night. It was then that she opened her eyes again, looking straight up to the stars. A strong feeling of nostalgia was gripping her.

_You are still the same. You are still here. You are very lucky stars._

She gulped once as she felt her throat tightening. Giving in to the feelings inside as she did so very rarely, she let herself fall down onto her knees, now sitting all on her own in the middle of the forest, her hands intertwined and pressed firmly into her lap. Yet her gaze never lowered.

_They are shining so innocently down on me, so indifferent. Have they been indifferent too, as I was here with him, hearing gentle words and talking foolishness?_

For it had been here, in this meadow, were she had been alone with Eragon after the last Agaetí Blödhren. She remembered his words as if it was but a few days ago:

"_How tall the trees, how bright the stars… and how beautiful you are, o Arya Svit-kona."_

It was quite interesting what a different effect his words now had on her. Back then she was angered beyond reason, now she felt a stinging sorrow in her chest. She sighed.

_Svit-kona, you said? No, I've been a fool. You have seen farther than I on that night. I never thought that we were to become that close, Eragon. We have been so very different… In the end, we were no more._

The sorrow in her heart began to change slowly into something else, something much more stubborn and determined, as she thought about the injustice fate forced upon them.

_This cannot be the end. You were – you are my friend. You told me that you would never lose me. I shouldn't keep you apart from me, just because I am afraid of the pain. What kind of Rider would I be, if I let my fear become the better of me?_

And so she found the answer to her question she pondered for so long: She would invite Eragon to the Agaetí Blödhren that was to take place in nearly four months.

_What is fate but what we decide to do? I will alter my fate now, Eragon. I _will_ see you again._

Her decision finally made, she rose to her feet and turned back the way she came. Her pace was strong and determined and after only a few steps she found herself running swiftly through the forest, feeling a vitality in her limbs that she hadn't felt for a very long time.

The night already began to change into day as she approached her hut and the dragon resting in front of it. She felt a warmth spread inside her as they joined their minds even tighter, hearing his voice speak to her.

"_Your walk was fruitful, I see."_

"_So it was. I cannot keep on chatting now, Fírnen. A letter is waiting that wants to be written."_

For now she wanted to write a letter like he received only once before: A letter from Arya, not from the Queen, not even from the Rider. Just from her. A plea, just from her.

"_And you will think that he will come, just like that?", _her dragon asked her as she was already slipping through the door.

"_No, not just like that. What can I do but hope? The times have changed, it's not like it was nearly a century ago, right after the war, anymore. We all are settled; there is justice and peace back in Alagaësia, and the Riders are established once again. I do believe it is _possible_ for him come. Whether he _wants_ to or _will _come, alas, that I do not now. I will just have to give it a try."_

By now she was already sitting at her desk, taking a new sheet of paper out of a drawer and laid it down in front of her. She felt a thrill of joy and anxiety run through her as she picked up a quill to start writing.

Her best friend… They were so very close, yet it was so long ago. How will he have changed? How will he feel now for her?

This thoughts came back to her over and over again while she filled the sheet with black runes. She heard Fírnen chuckle in her mind.

"_Come on. I know you long to see her, too", _Arya tried to tease back.

"_For sure. But I am not so sure anymore if I long more for her than you do for her Rider."_

"_Hhmpf. Maybe. But I am anxious."_

"_Why so?"_

"_However I twist and turn the odds I come to one conclusion: He won't be the same anymore."_

"_You cannot know that. You are, for the most part, still the Arya you have been all this years ago, aren't you?"_

"_I know. And that is what I fear the most." _She heard Fírnen sigh.

"_What can I say, Arya? He is the Leader of our order. Of course he won't be anymore the youth he was when he left these lands behind. But, considering all the things you told me about him and my own observations too, I am very sure of one thing: Whatever will have changed in him, he will always be _Eragon. _He is pure of heart, honest and very caring. And he is very fond of you. Nothing of these things will have changed, of that I am sure."_

Arya had to stop writing as she heard Fírnen speaking these words. She looked outside the window were the sun was rising over the crags of Tel'naeír this very moment and wasn't sure whether she wanted to cry or laugh.

* * *

><p>My god, what did I do?<p>

This is by far the longest introspection I ever wrote. But I must say, I liked it. I think the line of Arya's thoughts is quite reasonable, tell me what you think about it.

And thanks to the bands Wolfsheim and Jupiter Jones whose songs I abused (after translating them to English) for Eragon's poems. ;)

The next chapter will see the first meeting of my two best friends after nearly a hundred years… Hmmm… This will get hard. I have a moderate plan of what to write but I didn't think about the subtleties for now, so don't be disappointed if I won't make it till next weekend, I will rather wait a week than writing some rubbish.

So, I hope you enjoyed this one, please leave LOTS of reviews! ;)

AryaNuanen


	5. Chapter 4  In Memoriam

_It was a cloudy night in wintertime, for the mountains and valleys shimmered white in the dim light of a full moon. Despite the cold and dark it was beautiful and serene - peaceful. There was no sound but for the wind blowing in the trees and over the surface of the snow, where whirls of glittering dust were flying in the air like powdered sugar. No movement could be seen in this panorama of a perfect winter's night._

_Yet suddenly a dark dot appeared in the sky. It evaded the peaks of the mountains, but they could never wrench it away from its destination. Its shape grew more and more defined as it flew ever closer. The moonlight was reflected in an almost fluorescent green were it fell upon its scales and the soft membranes of its wing. The lone figure on its back remained uncovered but for the bright emerald eyes penetrating the darkness._

This was the last thing Eragon saw before the vision faded and it startled him out of his sleep; he sat up with a slight gasp. Trying to steady himself he breathed in deeply a few times, letting the tension fade from his limbs like water would be running down his body to seep away into the ground. Just seconds later he felt already better but for a stubborn knot of unsureness and perplexity which remained coiled up in his chest: What did he see in his sleep just a minute ago? Was it a vision of the future as he had so often before? Or just a vivid dream born out of the predicament he was caught in momentarily?

With yet another sigh he stepped out of bed; he didn't feel like going back to sleep now anyway. He stood there for a moment at the end of his bed, but the restlessness in his mind made his body move. As if they had a will on their own his feet brought him in front of his writing desk were_ her_ letter was still laying, unrolled yet unanswered.

He picked it up slowly, carefully, as though the touch could burn his fingers. Since the letter had arrived yesterday morning with the eagerly awaited grass-boat from Arya he had read it over and over again. For the first time in history her boat had to carry two papers all this way into his hands.

The first page contained, as it was usual between them, a short story of hers. It had been a very good one this time; it was about a dying king who sent a sentinel with a message to a common man, yet the sentinel had to overcome a bunch of insuperable obstacles to reach the addresser. Again and again, after each obstacle, two sentences were repeated: _"And if he would make it, nothing would be gained." _and "_But never, never can it happen."_

The metaphor was clear: The distance between the monarch and his subject was too vast to ever overcome, even for the king's best sentinel. He wondered what made her write something like this, being queen herself. After reading it a few times he wondered whether she was happy with her lot as a monarch. But this wasn't what had kept him occupied for the last twenty-four hours.

Because the second page was neither a short story, nor a poem, nor a song. It was an invitation.

She had chosen her words with care, so much was obvious, writing warmly, yet with a certain kind of politeness that showed him how unsure of their standing after all this years she was, too. She was inviting him to the Blood-oath Celebration that would take place in a bit more than three months from now, asking humbly for the honour of his presence, arguing that it would only be appropriate for the Leader of the Riders to attend. And beneath that:

"_We would be delighted and honoured if you could manage to join us; it had been much too long for both of us._

_Your friends, Fírnen and Arya"_

He felt warmth spread inside him whenever he read these last lines of hers.

Meanwhile he had stepped out of his bedroom and onto the balcony, now climbing down the steps to a large terrace where Saphira was usually resting and already waiting for him. Thus his searching gaze was greeted by a pair of sapphire blue eyes as he stepped down the last tier. In silence he got to her side and sat down to lean against one of her forelegs, his hand reaching out to touch her his eyes lowered again to the letter he was still holding in his hand. He felt Saphira softly nudging his leg as she felt the frustration within him.

"_You are making things far more difficult than necessary", _she spoke in his mind, "_Stop agonizing yourself with this. I know you want to go. Don't tell me you wouldn't know yourself."_

"_I wanted so much when it comes to Arya... I don't know what to want anymore",_ he trailed off.

He lifted his head as he was pondering his dilemma and, even though he wasn't in his best mood, appreciated the view of the city and the lands beyond this terrace.

What had begun so very small was now, after nearly a century, a sprawling city made of white stone, giant as only a place could be where dwarves or dragons were living, but with an elegance and nobility that put even Tronjheim to shame, without looking highfaluting.

Dras abr Minuial, that was the name of this place. The City of Daybreak within Du fells ráva, the Wild Mountains, which were named such because they were uninhabited and wild before Eragon and his elves arrived – and because of the wild dragons that chose to live there.

He sighed. He loved his new home. He wished he could say he was truly happy here without feeling as though he was lying or as though there wasn't something missing.

"Can _we go?", _he now asked Saphira directly.

"_I cannot see a reason why not. We – meaning the Riders – are safe here, the Wild Ones are as always perfectly fine being only among themselves and there are no hatchlings we have to care for at the moment and that won't change for a while since no egg had hatched for a Rider this last few years. I cannot see why this order shouldn't be able to function without us for a few weeks or even months. Maréja and Flausa will cope perfectly fine for a while", _so she said, speaking of Eragon's second in command and her nodded in agreement.

"_I suppose we _can_ go, then. Do we _want _to?", _he asked, for he really didn't know himself, "_I feel like being torn asunder. A part of me wanted to jump onto your back and fly off the second I read her words. But the other part... Leaving her was one of the most painful things in all my life. If I go back now, I will have to leave her again, so shortly after getting her back."_

"_Little one…"_

"_Who is she, Saphira? It seems as if I knew just a moment ago. I can still remember every day I spent by her side and even more feelings that have always been there and, or so it seems, will never leave me completely. Yet all that feels so... so far away. As though it had happened to someone else or just in a dream. _She_ seems so far away. A fairytale might be closer and more real to me than she does. How can I dare meet with a fairytale and remain unscathed?"_

"_So you wrote poems all this years to what you deem a fairytale?", _Saphira answered, not without an edge in her voice.

"_No... of course not."_

"_Did you deny Yaela for a dream someone else was dreaming?"_

"_There was nothing to deny. I didn't – do not – feel anything for her, nor does she for me."_

"_And why is that so?", _she twisted her head around to look straight into his eyes, "_Are you scared of your hopes coming true? This is the perfect opportunity. You only need to look outside your window to see the fruits of your longing, don't you? Why do you keep in touch with her if you don't want to see her again?" _

"_I never said that", _he felt a little defensive by now, but his gaze wandered nonetheless to the wooden gate to his left. He sighed as he watched his flowers swaying in the light breeze, "_You know how leaving her felt to me..."_

"_Then let's go back to her", _she concluded, her voice now much more gentle, "_Don't be afraid. I know you're stronger than that."_

* * *

><p>Three weeks. Nearly for three weeks he had been going straight ahead - yet now his feet came to an instant halt.<p>

"_Little one, what is it?", _Saphira asked gently, lowering her head so she could look directly into his eyes.

"_I don't know", _Eragon replied, feeling a small shiver go down his spine as his gaze was absorbed by the darkness between the trunks of the pine trees. It seemed to concentrate into an impenetrable blackness while he was watching, "_I might be scared."_

Saphira nudged his shoulder lightly with her snout. She was standing beside him, glittering even in the dim light of sunset, _"Come on. You are far too old to be afraid of the dark."_

He gave a wry smile at that and was just about to answer as he felt something – someone coming closer. Knowing who he was, he straightened his back and put on that friendly but severe and noble mask he wore for negotiations and other political issues.

Just seconds later two elves appeared at the edge of the forest, approaching him quickly. They stopped at a respectful distance in front of Eragon and Saphira and bowed deeply, then exchanging the elven greeting with him. Of course they were speaking first, introducing themselves as sentinels of Kirtan.

"We are most honoured by your presence, Master Eragon", so one of them spoke, "We all are delighted to welcome you again to Alagaësia - and to Du Weldenvarden."

Eragon smiled. Yes. He was back again.

* * *

><p><em>Nothing had changed. Nothing at all.<em>

At least that was Eragon's first impression as he walked along the path which led through Ellesméra – the same path on which Arya had led him to Tialdarí-Hall all this years ago.

He watched many of the elves' tree houses pass by as he strode with Saphira at his side deeper and deeper into the capital, and again it were the same houses he had gazed at before.

_Arya was right, __h_he hh he thought to himself, _Centuries can go by here and no one cares about it. _

Many elves were lured out their houses to watch his arrival, looking at the slayer of Galbatorix with appreciation and joyous recognition – and some he could tell, with more or less hidden suspiciousness.

He greeted all of them alike in a polite manner but never stopped on his way towards the dwelling of the elven gentry and royalty – towards the place Arya was living.

It was hard for him to concentrate on anything else as on their imminent reunion. He couldn't really make himself believe that there were just a few hundred yards to separate them – she was all but breathing the same air as he did at the moment. He took a deep breath to steady himself, but was only partly successful.

"_You were right. It had been too long. I shouldn't have left her alone for such an amount of time."_

"_You did what was right under the given circumstances. Don't dwell on this now, you cannot change it anymore anyway, and we are back for them again, aren't we?", _Saphira replied and Eragon could only smile at the anticipation he felt swell within her more and more with every step. And of course she was right again: Even though he never wanted to break tie with Arya the way he did, it had happened now and he could hardly ever make it up.

_I've been a coward. I should have spoken to her again, through the enchanted mirror at least, instead of hiding_ _myself behind poems and songs..._

"_Eragon", _Saphira growled lightly, drawing the attention of the elven sentinels which accompanied them, "_Weren't you listening? Some concentration, please, if you can make it. We are nearly there. And if you now just walk past Arya because your are so stubbornly pondering what is past and gone, _then - then_ I think she will really be disappointed in you."_

He couldn't help himself. He just had to laugh at her comment, laying a hand on her shoulder as they were just a few steps from the court yard which led into the Hall.

He had just pulled himself together, again feeling the tension rising in his stomach like a bubble about to burst, as a deafening roar echoed through the forest. Both Saphira and Eragon stopped immediately in their tracks and raised their heads, searching for the source of the noise, but it was foremost Saphira whose body became as rigid as if carved out of stone. She opened her jaws widely and answered with a bellow just as ferocious, sending a torrent of blue flames into the sky.

Before her cry could do so much but fade it suddenly mingled with another roar from the skies and then a sparkling emerald creature appeared above the top of the trees.

Eragon's smile widened in appreciation as the sunlight made Fírnen's scales sparkle and glitter in an amazing dance of light and shined through the soft membranes of his wings, giving them the light colour of maple leaves. He felt Saphira's boundless joy at the sight of her old friend and mate and it took her only a fraction of a second to leap into the air to truly greet him.

They circled closely around each other, eyes never leaving the other dragon, floating higher and higher into the sky. They disappeared soon from the view of the ones on the ground who were left looking after them, but Eragon could still hear the pleasant mewling and purring of two dragons and, above all, felt still all the emotions swirling inside Saphira which were so rich and varied that they elicited a small gasp from his own lips.

This was the moment where it came to Eragon's mind that it might be better for now to leave her on her own. He didn't think he could endure this deep feelings as long as he had his own stubborn emotions to keep at bay – and certainly not when he was with Arya for the first time after this long, long separation. It had been embarrassing enough the first time.

So he withdrew himself slightly from Saphira's mind, knowing that she was off fine. He didn't expect her to show up for the next few hours anyway. His head was still angled upwards, still looking towards the crowns of the trees where Saphira and Fírnen had disappeared as he forced himself back to _his_ present situation, trying his hardest to prepare himself for the things that were to come -

And a moment later he knew it had happened.

For before he could lower his head, before he could even form a conscious thought - he felt her presence close by, felt even her gaze upon him, felt it all like a fire in his blood.

He closed his eyes for a moment as his heart skipped a beat, then lowered his head, all the while knowing that she would see – and understand – all this things about him. He opened his eyes.

And then it was Arya standing in-between the gates to Tialdarí-Hall; it was Arya's gaze resting solemnly upon him; and it were in Arya's emerald eyes that he was losing himself.

They shared this one long and silent gaze as memories of old were renewed for both of them, and they never broke that gaze as Eragon steeled himself and walked slowly towards her, all the while absorbing her features and the look in her eyes.

_It's strange. I never forgot her face, I know it better than I know my own. But seeing it now... It's like having known it all the while and seeing it for the very first time all at once... How strange._

He came to a halt as he was standing very close to her. If he would just take but another step forward, he was close enough to touch her.

_So close. Had she ever been this close to me before? Again an old thing that feels so new._

Standing much closer to her now he could really _see_ her now. She was looking at him with a calm, polite and nearly expressionless mask upon her face as she had to, considering their audience. But as he looked at her so deeply and seemingly affectionately, he could see the small wrinkles beside her eyes getting smoother, her eyes widening a tiny little bit, making her gaze warmer and livelier.

He wondered whether she felt deep inside just as agitated as he did.

And then this long moment – long for him at least, for it had not even been a minute since he met her gaze – was broken by Arya herself, as she raised her hand and touched her fingers to her lips.

"I am more delighted than I can say to welcome you again to our forest, Eragon Shadeslayer. We never forgot what you have done for us during the war against Galbatorix, nor the friendship you have shown my people in general. Atra esterní one thelduin."

He smiled lightly at her words, touching his lips, too.

"I appreciate your welcome, your Majesty. I too am glad to be back in Alagaësia again. Du Evarínya ono varda, Arya Dröttning", he spoke and still wondered if her former words came just from the Queen or from Arya as well.

"Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr. We have much to discuss, Master Eragon. We all heard from your home and your achievements many a times, but only from your apprentices or from the written word. Now we all would like to hear more about your order, if you would share your experiences with us. Please follow me, we are already awaited."

With that she turned and Eragon followed her into the Hall as though he was drawn by a string. Before they entered though, Arya turned her head slightly towards him and gave him a crooked smile, a real smile, that told him more about her as a thousand words could.

He felt his insides give a jerk as her smile made her eyes sparkle and, smiling widely too, he blinked back in a conspiratorial way.

She turned back then, finally stepping into the circle of chairs where the elven dignitaries were already waiting for them.

* * *

><p>The council didn't take as long as Eragon had expected, the two hours they talked weren't much compared to the standard of elven negotiations. In this time Eragon gave his own description of Du fells ráva, Dras abr Minuial and the Order in general as he was prompted by the elven Lords and Ladies and by the Queen herself.<p>

But he couldn't help to notice that Arya seemed slightly withdrawn, listening and giving a comment from time to time, but asking only rarely questions and talking even less. But she seemed to listen especially intently when he was talking and Eragon revelled in the attention he was granted by her.

And no one made a comment about the obvious absence of the two dragons, a fact that amused Eragon greatly. He was sure some of the elves would rather liked him gone and Saphira been here, but they would have to wait. For how long he was not sure, as he still evaded touching Saphira's mind for her as well as his wellbeing.

As all their curiosity was sated, Arya finally took charge again and led them all outside were a grant table was set up in the meantime with the most delicious food the kitchen of Arya's household was able to produce.

There they all sat down, Arya at the head of the table with Eragon and Däthedr to her sides, and made merry for more hours than Eragon cared to count.

And again he wasn't talking much with Arya, nor did she with anyone else, but he found himself looking at her from time to time and then she would meet his gaze, both a them locking eyes in a way that felt both threatening and exhilarating for him. She seemingly wasn't unaffected by this silent communication as well, none of them could really grasp the meaning or effects of what they felt. There was a fascination in them of something that was so familiar and intimate, yet so long ago too, that the memory of it was nearly lost. It was a kind of a thing that only a heart could remember.

So for Eragon the feast went by in a strange conglomerate of confusing feelings and shadows of old memories on the inside and an arduous display of elven courtesies on the outside. He was somewhat relieved as Arya stood up and all the others followed her example.

"It seems to me we have bothered our guest long enough with our curiosity and I will retire myself now", speaking lower and only to him, she added, "I would like to accompany you on the way to your dwelling if you are agreeable?"

"Of course I am, Arya. Do you really have to ask?", he answered trying to sound nonchalantly.

She looked into his eyes for a very long time after he said this. He thought she looked sad.

"Maybe, maybe not. Sometimes things are not that easy."

With that she turned and began to walk down the path which led into the direction of Eragon's treehouse and Eragon hurried to follow her.

She wasn't initiating a conversation as they strode leisurely underneath the trees and Eragon respected the silence. She seemed agitated, or so he thought at least, and he didn't want to disturb her in her thoughts.

It was still strange, surreal even, for him to be with her again. He felt torn in his feelings and wishes. On the one hand he remembered the immense closeness and candour they once had and everything they went through together, the battles, the victories and defeats. And all those silent moments that he treasured like nothing else. But on the other hand the beautiful creature beside him felt like a stranger, close and far at the same time, like a relative you haven't seen for ages.

Thus they reached the familiar tree in silence and came to a stop at the foot of the long staircase that would lead to its top. They turned to look at each other and then Arya finally spoke.

"No one has dwelled in it since you left it all this years ago and now it finally really belongs to you: It has always been the home of the Leader of the Riders when he or she dwelled in Ellesméra", she spoke softly looking at him with what could have been pride, "There was a time when I thought it would remain uninhabited forever..."

She trailed off looking to the side for a moment, her gaze far, far away. Then it snapped back to him.

"I will meet you here tomorrow morning, if you want to? I would love to hear more about you and Saphira and how you fared in your new home."

Eragon smiled slightly, searching, always searching for the feeling they once had.

"I would be very glad."

The corner of Arya's mouth twitched in return. He was delighted to see her gaze getting a bit warmer.

"Welcome back, Eragon. It had been a very long time since you were with us and I hope your stay will be a pleasant one now."

There was meaning in her words, he knew so much, yet couldn't decipher the subtleties. He decided to answer likewise.

"I am sure it will", and then, looking her very deeply in the eyes, said, "I am more than glad, too, to be finally back again."

He saw her smile widen slightly, but she had already turned around to make her way back to Tialdarí-Hall.

Eragon stood there for a few long seconds, watching her fading form and sighed deeply at the turmoil he felt inside. Finally he averted his gaze and started to climb up the staircase, feeling more tired as the day's labour could legitimate. But he couldn't help to turn his head once more into her direction as he was already high above the ground.

He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw her standing under a large, wild pine, with her back still towards him as though she had just stopped her steps a mere second ago.

At that very moment her head turned and she looked over her shoulder back to him. His own eyes widened as he saw the troubled, unsure expression on her face. He hadn't seen her so open and vulnerable since he was back.

They still stared at each other as a white raven shot suddenly out of the skies, drawing their attention, and cried loudly into the night:

"_Wyrda!"_

* * *

><p>Hey guys, sorry for the delay, but I had a very busy week...<p>

I hope you like this, I must say the chapter turned out to a bit better in content as I first thought. But tell me what you think ;)

A remark: ráva means wild in Sindarin; Minuial means daybreak in Quenya. I had to use the elven language from Tolkien as there were no words in paolini's

ancient language for those terms.

I hope I got the reunion between Eragon and Arya right, I tried to find something in between that was not to formally nor did I want her to jump into his arms...

Tell me your opinions in lots of reviews! ;)

AryaNuanen


	6. Chapter 5  Through your Eyes

It was late in the night as Saphira finally came back from her own reunion. She glided very carefully through the tear-shaped hole of their tree house - carefully because she had grown quite an amount since the last time they were here - soon she would be too large to fit through it anymore.

But for now she still could stay inside together with her Rider and thus she found him wide awake as she looked around the room after landing gently on the vibrating wood. He was sitting on his bed with his clothes still on and looked at her with raised eyebrows. She puffed out some smoke at the sight of him and then made her way to her large cushion to lay down.

When she had curled up on it in what deemed to her the only appropriate way she looked at him again. She wasn't surprised that he could not find some sleep tonight, but he smiled nonetheless.

"_You had fun?"_

She averted her gaze slightly, yet lifted her chin regally in her stubbornness.

"_Yes, I had. And you?"_

He chuckled.

"_Not as much as you I dare say. But it could have been worse."_

As he spoke these words he felt Saphira push her mind even closer against his and he gave in naturally to show her the events of the day.

"_I see", _she said after considering his memories for some short moments, "_Well, I didn't expect her to throw her arms around your neck on the first opportunity anyway. But she was nice enough, wasn't she?"_

"_Nice enough...", _he nearly sneered, "_Yes, that she was. But... I don't know, maybe I am overreacting or being unduly sensible or so... but _I _would have liked to throw my arms around her, you know... Why doesn't she? Have I been wrong about her feelings all this years? I thought I was important to her..."_

"_Eragon, you are unfair to her. Half Ellesméra was standing there watching you. What do you expect her to do knowing she is the Queen?" _

He shrugged his shoulders.

"_Be patient, little one. She just needs some time, both of you need some time. I am sure it will all come back. I know how deeply she cared for you, too. Elves usually do not hurriedly give their true names to others, nor would Arya. She won't have forgotten all the feelings you shared._

_And remember the way she looked back to you in the evening – and smiled at you before. She is glad to see you, too. I am sure you won't take long to reacquaint."_

"_Maybe", _he answered, but felt a bit better already, "_By the way, you and Fírnen apparently don't have problems like this. Doesn't it feel strange at all for you to be this close after being separated from him for so long?"_

She looked at him very sharply.

"_Why? Does it bother you that we... reconciled?"_

"_It doesn't bother me. You know I am happy for you. It's just... I wish it could be this easy with Arya, too."_

She snorted.

"_You two-legged and your problems. Dragons are not that difficult. We know what we want. I cared for him back then and he did so for me. Why should I think this had changed?"_

"_Saphira, sometimes you make me wish I were a dragon, too."_

At that she chuckled in amusement and stretched her long neck to touch his cheek with her snout.

"_But then you wouldn't be my little one, would you?", _she blinked warmly at him and, a little more seriously, said: "_Don't worry, Eragon. She will come around. She's got dragonblood running through her veins, just as you do. And we all are naturally passionate creatures, yes, that we are."_

With these words the two of them retired to some precious hours of rest before dawn would come and with it Arya's and Fírnen's visit.

They weren't aware that just half a league away another dragon and his restless Rider were having quite a similar talk.

* * *

><p>"<em>Come on, Eragon! They are here!"<em>

Eragon answered her call by getting up from the chair he's been sitting in to quickly lace his soft leather boots. He drank down the rest of his warm milk in a haste. He had just finished breakfast.

"_I am on my way. You couldn't have waited for me, could you?"_

He felt her smirk in his mind and just shook his head at the playfulness he felt there. Thus he still smiled widely as he climbed down the steep stairs which wound around his tree house like a spiral. And as they led him to the other side of the tree he could see them standing on the ground and waiting for him.

Fírnen and Saphira were standing close to each other, their shoulders touching, as they were sharing a mental conversation that was blocked from his senses. And in front of them was Arya, looking up at him with the faintest of smiles upon her face.

He returned that smile, looking all the time into her beautiful face as he stepped down the last tiers to the ground. She wasn't wearing the silver tiara as she did yesterday and Eragon took that as a good sign. So she didn't count this meeting as an official encounter.

_Well, at least a good start, _he thought.

But she didn't save them the formal elven greeting that she again initiated as he came to a stop in front of her.

"Un du Evarínya ono varda, Arya Dröttning", he replied, "What do you have in mind for us on this beautiful morning?"

"The weather is far too good to stay inside, so I thought you would maybe enjoy a walk through the forest and gardens with us?", she asked cocking her head.

"I think we will enjoy that very much, Arya. Just like in old times", he said, smiling crookedly. Arya nodded, her smile widening a tiny little bit.

"Indeed. Just like in old times. Come on."

With that they started on their way along the small path that lead them through the outskirts of Ellesméra where only few elves were living. They shared this privacy in silence for some long minutes, both of them trying to acquaint themselves with the fact that the other was really there and walking along beside you. Their dragons were trailing behind them, sharing their own closeness.

It was Arya who broke the silence before it could even begin to feel uncomfortable.

"So tell me, is our students' development to your satisfaction? You only gave hints in your last official letter."

"Of course I was only hinting. It _was_ an official letter."

She smiled.

"Of course. But how about an answer?", she insisted and made Eragon smile as he recognized her stubbornness.

"All of them are developing in their own pace. It is interesting to see the differences between the races, too. It's not that some are necessarily slower than others, they just... _vary. _ButMaréja and Flausa are the most _advanced, _if you dare to categorize this kind of progress. That's why we made them our substitutes, as you already know."

"Yes, I know. And what about Simek? I always thought he had a bit of a hard time with being the first dwarven Rider..."

And so they talked about the students they both were teaching, all the while walking ever deeper into the wild parts of the forest. Soon they reached the edge of Ellesméra but strode on nonetheless underneath the large pines.

It was easy for Eragon to talk to her about these common topics as it distracted him from his unsureness considering their current standing. And Arya was an easy audience, listening intently and very interested in everything he had to say. He all but marvelled at every wise remark and question she posed and revelled in just hearing the sound of her voice again.

Only when he averted his gaze from the path they were walking along to look into her face he felt this strange surrealisms come over him again as it frequently did yesterday. As though it was too good to be true that he was able to look into her shimmering emerald eyes again.

"Tell me about Minuial", Arya requested after a short minute of silence. The eager curiosity in her voice was obvious and Eragon was glad to hear it.

"It has gotten far more beautiful than I thought at the beginning. We continued the tradition of Vroengard and used foremost white marble for our buildings and constructed a vast square with a spring in the middle as the centre of the city. From there you can reach every establishment almost directly; the library, the hall were we keep our eggs and Eldunarí or the training fields for the Riders. The younger Riders and the novices stay together in a large house that the dragons like to refer to as the "Hatchlings' quarters"."

Arya distracted him shortly as she made a low sound deep in her throat like a subdued chuckle. Eragon joined in.

"I know. Sometimes I think the world would be quite a funny place if you would leave the naming of things solely to dragons."

She gave her agreement in a short smile. Eragon continued his story.

"Well, the trained Riders usually chose or built a house on their own; some of them decided to stay with their dragons in a cave in the mountains. I am living with Saphira at the foot of the mountain, a bit farther away from the centre as most of the others, but I enjoy the peace there and I have a... park there, too."

At that Arya looked at him, her forehead slightly creased.

"I thought I heard something like that..."

"There are many stories told about our city already", Eragon said swiftly, "More than I thought."

Arya's frown increased. She felt cut short by him and wondered what about that had made him feel uncomfortable. But considering their fragile relation she decided to leave him be for now. Trying to redirect his thoughts for the sake of both of their well-being she asked:

"And what about the wild dragons? What happened to them?"

"They decided to stay in the wild, as expected", he seemed a bit more at ease as she dropped the former subject, "Raising them was a hard thing to do. We wanted to lead them, to make them understand our situation and the world they were born into, but not having a Rider as a medium made it hard to make them understand while they were young. And I didn't feel we had the right to keep them with us if they decided differently, so we let the first bunch of them go when they were old enough to cope for themselves. Not that they asked for our permission", he chuckled, "They decided to dwell together in a valley close to ours and we kept watch for them until they really had settled and we thought they were able to care for themselves."

"Hm", Arya seemed to consider his words for a good minute while Eragon waited patiently.

"And now?", she finally said, "How do you treat them now? How do you negotiate with them?"

"After a while they chose... well, something akin to a leader, a dragon who speaks in the name of all the others. It's a young male that goes by the name of Gaidon. He is our contact for everything there is to deal with, as for the eggs we receive from them."

Arya nodded. After yet another moment of silence she suddenly cocked her head aside and looked at him very intently. Eragon was astonished to see traces of sadness in her eyes.

"It sounds... stunning, you know. I wish I could see all of that. The city, the mountains and the wild dragons... I would really like to see all of that."

Eragon lowered his head.

"I understand. And you should do so sometime. After all it is your order, too", then he was stopped in his tracks by an idea that had struck his mind.

She _could_ see it of course. All of it.

He turned his head and smiled at her, giving her a wink as she halted beside him and looked at him queerly.

"I cannot give the experience to you to see it with your own eyes, but maybe... Maybe I could give you a small impression?"

Arya frowned again. A small crease appeared between her eyebrows as her eyes narrowed in concentration. The sight made Eragon flinch.

_Yes. This is it. This is Arya. And I had almost forgotten that look upon her face. _

He couldn't help it. A deep tenderness spread inside his chest.

Arya saw his eyes getting very warm, all his features showing her his affection. She felt slightly taken aback, but made her best to hide it from him.

But he saw at least parts of her predicament dangling deep within her eyes and lifted one corner of his mouth in amusement.

"Come on. Come with me."

He turned slightly, nudging his head to their right and took a careful step forward, waiting for her to come after him. Arya hesitated and only followed as Saphira gave her an encouraging jolt with her snout, trying to reassure her of his sincerity.

Still smiling Eragon lead her a few hundred feet deeper into the forest. He himself followed the gentle gurgling of flowing water that was generated by a small brook that had long flown along their way through the forest. The other three were still behind him as he stopped at a pond that was nourished by the said stream and kneeled down beside it.

Arya slowly approached him, all the while meeting his expectant gaze with her own still slightly unsure eyes. But she didn't pause on her way to his side and finally sat down beside him. None of them said a word as they stared at the mundane pond in front of them where water plants were swaying gently in the silent water. Arya wondered a moment about his inactivity, but only a second later she realized that he waited for the two dragons to arrange themselves so they could look into the pond too.

Then he looked at Arya and then at Fírnen who had laid his head down beside his Rider.

"And now - see. See and behold our home - the home of the Dragon Riders."

With these words Eragon turned back to the pond and spoke a few words in the Ancient Language – and so didn't see the involuntary flutter of Arya's eyelids shortly after he said "our home".

Her gaze flickered back to the pond, watching the water rippling as colours were flowing into the formerly clear liquid, swirling around in confusing circles for the time of a heartbeat before shape and order came to the picture that manifested itself on the water.

At first she only saw the horizon, the blood-red sky of late sunset behind a vast plain of swaying grass and a wide river whose waters sparkled as if dotted with ruby crystals. Then the view shifted, following the stream below to see where it was flowing to. The movement stopped as the mountains came into sight – The Wild Mountains, Arya reasoned. In the vision they flew closer and closer till the valleys and peaks laid beneath them and both Arya und Fírnen marvelled in the sight of this land; they hadn't seen something so naturally beautiful, something so wild and so _new_ for a very long time.

The dragon flew on – as the world could only ever be seen like this from the back of a dragon – and turned left around the peak of one of the tallest mountains there which looked as if dipped in blood in the red light, following the valley which was unfolded behind it.

And then they saw it.

Arya and Fírnen leaned their faces closer to the pond, pleasing Eragon greatly with their curiosity and fascination, as the crimson light in the vision fell upon the white stones of Minuial. Even from far they could see the elegant, soft shapes of the buildings, the dots of green here and there of small gardens and flowerbeds... More and more details were revealed as the dragon got closer to the sprawling city, just as a statue of a proudly sitting dragon, in contrast made of the blackest granite, which seemed to mark the border of the city – for of course it had neither gate nor wall.

The dragon overflew Minuial in a straight line and only ten or so metres above the roofs letting their spectators admire the myriad of subtleties there was to see. He or she was greeted vigorously by the dragons on the ground, their Riders, if present, looking up and raising their hands in salutation too.

The vision began to fade after rolling along a wide lawn and the last picture they saw was that of a white house with a broad terrace in front of it at the edge of the dark forest behind it.

As the pond was nothing but a pond again, Eragon turned his head to look at the two to his right. Arya had folded her hands in her lap, somehow looking as though she was praying, while Fírnen had already lifted his head from the ground and now seemed to talk to the other dragon present. Eragon grinned as he found hints of their conversation in the loose connection he had with Saphira in this moment; apparently he had ignited the green dragon's curiosity. Feeling curious himself he shifted his gaze to Fírnen's Rider who still kneeled beside him in silence.

She seemed to feel his eyes on her and returned his gaze a second later, her eyes calm yet wide open. Eragon smiled.

"Well, I know this was only a short look-around, but what do you think about it?"

"I think you found the perfect place. Really", she said, flexing her fingers in her lap, "it is everything I have imagined the home of the Riders to be. This serenity you had shown me just a minute ago... it is awesome. And all these dragons... I have never seen so many dragons in one place..."

Eragon furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Surely you know how many Riders we are? You have trained them all as they were more or less younger, why are you surprised?"

"I am not surprised, and of course I know how many Riders there are", she answered with a hint of impatience, her brow creasing, "I just... It is hard to imagine them all in one place if you have never seen something like this – but of course it comes natural to you."

She fell silent after that, looking at the ground with a vacant expression. Eragon still couldn't really make out what disturbed her but decided to respect her privacy and ask no further. He got a bit nervous as the silence stretched on and tried desperately to find a way to start an easy conversion with her again.

"_You are more nervous than necessary. And even more nervous than any Leader of the Riders who is older than a hundred years should be allowed to be", _he heard his dragon's voice ring within his mind, "_Be patient and have some trust in you, in her and in the both of you too. This is not a bad silence."_

He just was about to answer her as Arya turned towards him again.

"And the wild dragons? How are they living? Do they live in... flocks?"

A bit startled he centred himself swiftly and then thought about her question.

"Most of them, yes. There are some living on their own and many in pairs, mostly the elder generation, but for the most part they are living in a loose community together, yes. Why do you ask?"

"It was just a question", she shrugged and looked away making Eragon narrowing his eyes slightly. She couldn't beguile him this easily, for that he had known – and still knew – her too good. And he didn't miss the sharp glance Fírnen gave her either.

"Do you want to see it?", he asked some quiet moments later and still tried to unscramble the riddle in front of him. Arya nodded and then followed his suit as he turned towards the pond again.

This time he only showed her pictures. Pictures from memories of his visits in the wild dragons valley which the Riders called Imrath Skulblaka, simply Dragon Valley, and memories of the time he had raised the hatchlings from the eggs of the Vault of Souls.

Arya watched intently beside him as he showed her dragons which were playing, hunting and resting together, hatchlings that banded together in small play groups just as human children would do.

The last picture was a memory from just a few months ago. Arya saw Saphira and a purple dragon standing at the edge of a crag from where they were looking down into a valley of Du fells ráva. She recognized the other dragon as Flausa; she and her Rider Maréja were the second students of hers. They watched a group of ten or so dragons at the edge of a wide lake within the valley. There were some of them swimming in the lake, snapping after fish, and others were basking in the warm sun of late noon, their eyes closed while their youngsters were playing together.

Arya straightened in her sitting position as she studied this and took a deep breath as Eragon let the vision fade.

"It is wonderful, isn't it?", he asked with a soft voice.

"Yes."

"When I see things like this... I always think then that it was worth fighting the war we did, that it was worth every life it took, just for this."

"Yes. Definitely."

She still seemed to be thinking deeply about something Eragon couldn't quite decipher, but he wasn't deceived by the neutral mask she had set on her face. He had seen the happiness in her eyes at seeing the pictures he had shown her and felt delighted.

"_I am glad", _he thought to himself, "_I am glad that she didn't forget how to feel happiness."_

"_Why do you think she would?", _Saphira intruded his thoughts.

"_I don't know. Somehow I've always been scared of it. She had been through so much... And now something seems to bother her, too. I wish I could ask her..."_

"_Not now", _his other side replied with some urgency, "_Not yet."_

"_I know. But I wish I could help her, or comfort her at least", _he remembered how they had held hands all this time ago, he remembered that he was able once to touch her without feeling uncomfortable.

"_Can time really change that much? I feel as though I am at the very beginning with her again. Time only took me back again, on this way at least..."_

"_And it will also take you forward again", _Saphira uttered at last and then drew back from his mind slightly.

It was then that Arya suddenly stood up and Eragon hurried to imitate her move.

"It is getting late", she spoke softly beside him, "I have a meeting at noon and we have a long way back. We should go now."

Eragon dipped his head slightly.

"As you wish, your Majesty", he jested, at least trying to light up her mood just a little bit as he was denied the comfort he would so very dearly like to give to her. He had reached his goal in a way, because Arya grinned cheekily at him as she made her way back to the path, the dragons and Eragon trailing behind her.

Eragon caught up with her within a few steps and they continued their walk for a few silent minutes, each one of them caught within his own thoughts. They were still deep inside the dark forest as Arya broke the silence with a solemn voice.

"Eragon, I have a problem."

"I guessed as much", he answered and looked at her from the side as she was still gazing straight ahead, "I would gladly help you if I can. What is it?"

"It is a twofold problem. One side of it is me", she spoke reluctantly after a short pause, "I lack training."

"_You_ lack training? Arya, you are one of the most proficient fighters I have seen in my life, both with mind and sword. Why would you lack training?"

"I don't mean that kind of training. I mean something else", she met his confused gaze for the fraction of a second; she seemed unsettled, "When I met some of our students, especially the older ones, when I met them after they've been with you for years or even decades, I noticed a change. It is hard to grasp with words and it was beyond their common aging or maturing process, but it was there and I could feel it, see it in their eyes and the eyes and minds of their dragons. Do you know what I mean?"

"Hm", he was silent for a moment, his gaze drifting away in the distance, "I am not sure. Of course we train their minds beyond their own development, but so is yours. Where is the difference?"

"The difference", she spoke, her voice hard now, "is that they are _Riders_. Riders that have learned and were guided by dragons. The Eldunarí are partaking in their education, I suppose?"

"Yes, the young Riders are allocated to one of the elder dragons in the Eldunarí after they reached a certain grade in their education. These elders are eager to share their wisdom and usually choose their students on their own to attend to them over a longer time span, to teach them all they know about this life."

Arya nodded then, her assumption confirmed.

"I thought as much", for a moment she looked at Fírnen who walked now beside her and exchanged a few words with him that Eragon couldn't hear.

"This is my – our problem. We never had guidance like this and I feel the difference whenever I meet another Rider. Sometimes... sometimes when I am speaking with one of them about things more serious and deep then common politics, then sometimes I see a hint of the knowledge and wisdom they had shared with the elder dragons looming in their eyes and minds – and I suddenly feel smaller than them... I mean, I am the oldest Dragon Rider there is beside you and I _taught _all of them and suddenly I feel... outran. They are Riders in a way that I am not. This can't be right, can it?"

Eragon shook his head.

"No, this is not the way it should be... I see your predicament now. And we will have to do something about it. I will talk to the Eldunarí when I am back in Minuial, maybe we will find one who wants to tend to the both of you."

"_I am sure we will_", Saphira said confidently.

"That would be much appreciated. Thank you."

He could see both Arya's and Fírnen's thankfulness and smiled at them, dipping his head.

"We are only doing our duty - or you could even say we are only doing up the neglect of our duty, because as the supreme of the Riders we are responsible for the education of _all_ the members of our order. I seek your forgiveness for my fault, it didn't happen intentionally."

"_So do I", _his dragon added with a certain reluctance.

Arya smiled kindly at these words, but Fírnen lowered his head to lock eyes with Eragon.

"_There is nothing to forgive", _the deep voice vibrated through Eragon's mind, "_It was just as much our fault. We were the only dragon and Rider here for far too long and so have never been challenged in any way. I fear we both grew overconfident in ourselves over all this years – until we were proven wrong by your students._ _And we are glad now for your help in undoing this flaw, Eragon-friend."_

"_I am delighted by your words, Fírnen-vor, and I am sure you won't take long to make up what you lack."_

"Yes, thank you again, Eragon", Arya added and looked a tad self-conscious at her dragon's words. Eragon felt confirmed in that as he saw Fírnen give her a swift wink. He looked away to hide the smile on his face from Arya's view.

"That is only half the problem though."

Hearing those words, spoken in Arya's soft voice, he turned towards her again and raised his eyebrows.

"Oh? What else is there?", but he already had an assumption, for the problem with their education didn't have anything to do with the things she had been asking him about before.

She opened her mouth to answer him yet was silenced by a slight growl of her dragon. She turned to him with a scowl on her face. They were conversing for a quiet minute or two, keeping themselves from Eragon and Saphira. As they had found an agreement Arya turned back to Eragon again and spoke on.

"Apart from some short und irregular visits of others we _are_ the only dragon and Rider here", her gaze got very soft now, "_Fírnen_ is the only dragon here. He can only be with other dragons at this sporadic visits or when a dragon egg hatches for a Rider and they come to us for training. So he is only ever with hatchlings, with babies so to say, that cannot give him the company he craves, nor are the older dragons are much of a help here, for they mostly stay only for a few days..."

She turned her gaze away from him after she had spoken and looked around swiftly because they had entered the more inhabited parts of Ellesméra by now and she didn't want to be overheard for sure. In this short gap in their conversation Eragon noticed that Fírnen was looking stiffly ahead.

_Now his Rider had made _him_ feel a little self-conscious_, thought Eragon and heard Saphira's amused chuckle in his mind.

Arya couldn't make out any spectators it seems and went on with her line of thought.

"It always disturbed me that he was all alone here and as I saw the scenes you have shown me... It shouldn't be like that for him. And he won't be able to find a partner like this, too."

As she heard Arya's words Saphira let out a puff of smoke to show her criticism but nudged Fírnen fondly on his neck at the same time. It made Eragon smile for a short time, then he turned back to Arya.

"I understand you very good for I have long been with a dragon who thought that she would stay alone forever... It's not as easy to find a solution for this problem, however", he dwelled deep in thought for a dozen steps on the trampled path they were walking on as he turned and twisted the odds to find some comfort for Arya and Fírnen.

"Well, I can see exactly two ways for you to solve this predicament. And both of them will require lots of time and patience, I think."

"Yes?", Arya asked eagerly but her features told him that she was unconvinced.

"One day Riders will come back to live in Alagaësia again", he said as if it were a statement of fact, "Our order will only grow whilst the centuries march on and there might come a time when some Riders, especially the older ones I dare say, will decide to go back to their homes all over Alagaësia again – and to Du Weldenvarden, too. Then other dragons, older dragons will join Fírnen here and he-" Eragon directed his words now to the dragon, "- and then you will have some company here and that also over a longer time span."

Fírnen gave a low grunt at that and Arya nodded.

"Yes. _If_ it should come to that."

"It is not set in stone, no. But there is quite a good chance for it I would say. Well, we will have to wait and be patient."

"And the other solution?", Arya asked and was torn out of her chain of thought a moment later because she noticed that Eragon suddenly seemed hesitant. She raised her eyebrows at him and he gave her a wry smile in return.

"No leader stays on his throne forever. If you should feel someday that... that your time is ripe to give up your crown to the next ruler, then you could come to Minuial and join us."

He had spoken very softly and surprised Arya as he came to a halt a second later. She turned so that they stood opposite to each other and looked at him for a very long moment, her eyes betraying nothing.

"Would you come if you had abandoned your throne?", he asked her again and felt a terrible déjà-vu creep up inside him. Her features never wavered, yet he saw a light in her eyes shifting restlessly.

"Yes. I think I would come then."

But even as she spoke he knew the answer to this question. She wasn't lying, he knew that she would never lie to him, she _would_ probably come if she were ever to abandon her throne.

But it would never come to that.

He knew her, knew her deep down to her being, and so he knew that she would always think of herself to be the one who could lead her people best. She would _never_ think that she wouldn't be needed anymore. She would never give her throne away – only in death.

He felt his lips spread into a sad smile as he mourned because of the fate that was imposed on them.

"No. No, you would never come."

Something moved behind her bright green eyes as he spoke to her, his low voice full of grief. He turned away to resume their walk, but then heard her moving.

"Eragon – ", her voice was ringing in his ears, sounding far more animated as her face had been.

He was startled as he felt a small hand touch his upper arm and stood still once again. Turning he found her searching for his gaze, her eyes intensive and watchful as though she was trying to solve an incredible difficult riddle. Yet he was sure she knew all the facts he had just been thinking about. She understood very well. And her hand still rested upon his arm.

"Dröttning!"

And an instant later it was gone.

Arya jerked her head aside and saw an envoy of her court coming closer yet stopped him by holding up her hand. Then she turned back to Eragon again, slowly.

"I must go now", she spoke the obvious, "Let's talk tonight?"

Eragon nodded his agreement and took a deep breath to steady himself.

"If you have enough time", he began, "Then maybe we could meet in the air? We could test Fírnen's skills in aerial combat as you are worried about both of your training."

"That is an excellent idea."

She studied him for a last long moment with her bright eyes, still searching.

"Until then, Master Eragon."

"Until then, Arya... Dröttning", he replied and watched sullenly as she stepped away from him, Fírnen close behind her, and left him standing underneath the dark pines, alone but for his dragon.

Alone.

* * *

><p>I hope you enjoyed that, and by the way: Thanks so much for all the reviews for the last chapter, I never got that much ;)<p>

And something else: I edited a detail in Chap 4, Eragon was only travelling "nearly 3 weeks" from Minuial to the edge of Du Weldenvarden, don't know what I thought to write 4, that would be too long because sailing there took them only 2 weeks and even if you add the distance from where they left Arya to the forest it wouldn't take Saphira 4 weeks to fly. I felt I had to correct that for it will influence the story at some point, even if just a little bit...

So tell me what you think about Chap 5, I hope I got Arya right, I will (once this ff gets a bit closer to the fluff stuff) write a view words in an AN about how I view Arya, so that you can understand why I write her the way I do... But that's another story and shall be told another time... (nearly a perfect quote from the never ending story *haha*)

My best wishes to you! AryaNuanen


	7. Chapter 6 What lies beneath

To say the least Eragon's and Saphira's first full day in Ellesméra had been an interesting one, even though it began solely with walking and talking.

After Arya and Fírnen had left them at the edge of the city they had continued to wander on their own, meandering along the various gardens and houses of the elves and talking with the citizens of Ellesméra here and there. They couldn't say they had learned much from these talks as the elves kept their issues as usual among themselves and were avoiding straight answers to even his most common and polite questions.

"_If you can be sure of one thing on this earth", _Saphira had commented on this, "_Then it is that the elves will never change their ways, even if this world were to shatter to the ground and the night to become the day."_

And though Eragon was of the opinion that every creature and every matter in the living world was to change if pressure and time were gnawing on it for only long enough, he had somehow felt like agreeing with her.

In the end his own observations had sated his curiosity better than the numerous hints and half-truths he had heard, for the atmosphere in the forest _had _changed compared to what he remembered from before the end of the war.

The city of the elves - and their inhabitants for that matter - had always felt peaceful and pleasant to him in contrast to the hectic throng he was used to in larger human cities, but now an even deeper quiet and serenity seemed to dwell within every blade of grass and every flower which grew everlasting in its bed. And what confirmed him in this intuition even more were the surprisingly often encounters with elven children.

"_Apparently the elves have finally recovered from the downfall Galbatorix and the Forsworn had inflicted upon them", _thought Eragon on that matter.

His curiosity and concern as well now further ignited he asked for a dialogue with Arya's householder, as Arya herself was obviously otherwise occupied. The elven woman called Rigantona gladly accepted his demand and he spend the remainder of the afternoon with her, learning from her about elven society and current inner affairs, at least as far as she wanted – or was allowed – to tell him.

What he heard there only strengthened the healthy impression he had gained during his and Saphira's excursion, for the unity of the elven nation seemed steadfast and strong, except of smaller disagreements and that at mostly outer affairs; their birth rate was increasing just as the number and proficiency of their spellcasters.

He still dwelled on this topic as he was sailing with Saphira high above the top of the trees a few hours before the sun was finally going to set.

"_Glaedr said once that the elves lost some of their power after the Fall. Now magic is coming back to them - ", _Saphira said while gliding softly through the air, " - _now that there are more dragons in the world again, now that the balance between our races is secured again."_

"_Yes, it seems so. They are flourishing. And I am quite sure the Queen had her share in this, too"._

Saphira's laughter rang though his mind.

"_Of course you would think like that, what else would you expect?" _

Eragon smiled at his dragon's playfulness – and maybe at his own folly too.

"_Come on, spare me. Where are they by the way? It's getting late."_

"_Hmpf", _Saphira snorted, "_I don't know. I hate it when students are late for lessons... Such impertinence..."_

"_Usually I would agree, yet these are no ordinary students of us. They are not really students at all...", _buthe felt mirth bubbling up in his guts as he remembered what Orik had once said about elves and punctuality.

"_I know. I am just joking", _Saphira returned in good humour, _"But look, I think they are on their way._"

His gaze followed the turn of her head to their right. There it met the green shape of Fírnen who was approaching them swiftly with Arya sitting in the saddle strapped on his back. Her long midnight locks billowed behind her, shining in the soft light of late afternoon as brilliantly as Fírnen's scales. For Eragon it was hard to tell which one of the two looked more magnificent. He marvelled at the sight of both of them, but couldn't help to appreciate especially the opportunity to see Arya again. She looked so wild and free as she rode her dragon, adapting his movements with an easy grace all of her own. Now he couldn't see any trace of the stiffness and coldness of elven courtesy in her, only the gracious fierceness all dragons – and by that their Riders - possessed. She never lost the regality and elegance however that seemed to be as much a part of her nature as her pointed ears and slanted eyes were on the outside. It impressed him that so many things good and true could be embodied in just one person.

His contemplation however was broken as both dragons gave a deafening bellow at the sight of the other. Eragon was sure all of Ellesméra was able to hear their salutations and sure enough he could see some upturned faces where the branches were shallow enough to let him see to the ground beneath them.

But he looked back up swiftly and raised his arm high in the air as the other pair got ever closer. Arya returned his gesture and even from the distance that still separated them he could see the smile she wore on her face.

"_Her day's negotiations must have gone well, she seems to be in good humour", _Saphira commented to him, "_And you truly didn't separate in good humour this morning."_

"_No, not really."_

"_Well, she seems forgiving now. I will pull through what I intend to do, what about you?"_

Eragon took a deep breath. He couldn't allow himself to take this easy or to lapse his concentration for even a single moment. The next hours would decide about things that were very important for him.

"_Yes, I think I will. You will be occupied with Fírnen for a while, won't you?"_

"_I can occupy myself with him as long as you want", _she turned her head towards him while saying this and blinked cheekily with her shimmering eye. Eragon raised his eyebrows at the glee he felt emanating from her.

"_It won't take that long", _he started, but then furrowed his brow, "_Oh well, at least I think so. Depends on how she will react_..."

"_We all_ _have a lot to talk about. But I am sure you will be fine. Just don't overdo things, Eragon. I understand that you want to come to solid ground with her, but don't ask to much of her at once – or of yourself for that matter. Everything will fall into place when the time is right for it to happen."_

"_I know, Saphira", _he watched Fírnen and Arya; they would be at their sides just in seconds, "_I know. Things like that cannot be forced. But I can't stand this any longer – I _refuse _to stand this any longer. There was so much between us... And I am determined to believe that it can be like that again. _

_And I have only limited time left to talk to her; the Agaetí Blödhren approaches quickly and soon we will leave these lands behind again for who knows how long – or forever. I have to talk to her _now_. I refuse to let this be the end of us... But hush, they are here."_

For at this moment Fírnen arrived beside them and directed his course to float alongside Saphira.

"Greetings, Rider!", shouted Eragon from Saphira's back.

"Greetings as well, Master!", Arya replied eagerly, but underneath her outer behaviour he could see deep thoughts or memories dwell in the depths of her eyes. Maybe the sight of him riding Saphira, something she hadn't seen since the war, maybe it had led her thoughts back to a time that was forgotten for a long time – just like he had felt as he had led eyes on Alagaësia again for the first time. Yet her gaze shifted after the time of a heartbeat and got businesslike again.

"We should fly a bit further, follow me!", the Queen suggested and Fírnen took the lead. Saphira followed the other dragon as he crossed the borders of Ellesméra and flew ever onward, leading them to parts of the forest where hardly any elf was living. Eragon was glad about that, he was far from wanting to disturb the peace and quiet of the city.

It wasn't easy for him to see the tiny differences in their surroundings Arya and Fírnen were led by, but he had confidence in their knowledge of the forest and so accepted their decision as they chose what they deemed the right place for their trial without questioning it. Fírnen drew a quick circle around the place to make sure they were in an appropriate area while Eragon and Saphira looked around the place. They were at the edge of a rise in the forest ground in whose front was a small depression but in general the land here was slightly heightened in comparison to the level of the capital.

"_We think it is appropriate", _Fírnen voice rang through their minds as he approached them once again. The dragons began to circle each other as their Riders locked their gazes and Eragon gave Arya a questioning dip of his head.

"_So be it?"_

Arya gave a nod in return yet a much more resolute one.

"_So be it!"_

And Saphira took that as a prompt to start their match. She rose swiftly higher in the air, turning into Fírnen's direction with the same movement and shot down straight towards him with a ferocious roar, powerful, like a spear thrown by a Kull.

Fírnen anticipated this obvious move of hers however and let himself fall backwards to lash his tail at Saphira as she darted down at him. But Saphira dodged his strike, describing a small circle around him by twisting her agile body around her axes twice so that she could bow her long neck towards Fírnen to snap at him. He had just rightened himself after his backflip and could only just escape Saphira's fangs as she tried to bury them in the ridge of his neck.

They carried on in that manner, both dragons attacking and defending themselves as intensive as in a fight of live and death. Both of them had to endure small bites, scratches and bruises caused by sharp sabres and claws, however refrained from wounding the other severely.

"_He is doing well", _Eragon voiced his own observations after a particular fierce exchange of blows.

"_He could do better", _answered Saphira short-spoken and lunged at the other dragon once again, increasing the complexity of her attacks and forcing him to react likewise.

As their match continued it became clear to Eragon that Fírnen didn't lack any major skills or techniques, he fought well enough against Saphira who was of course by far the more experienced fighter of the two. Yet he couldn't match her flexibility in the air, nor the creativity she possessed in planning her moves.

"_Let him be", _Eragon told his dragon some long minutes later, "_We've seen enough."_

"_Alright", _she replied and drew back from Fírnen after fending off an attempted blow from his foreleg.

The two dragons paused motionless in the air for a heartbeat while Fírnen watched Saphira suspiciously, waiting for her next move. But Eragon lifted his hand to get both his and Arya's attention and gesticulated them to fly to the top of the knoll. The trees stood there shallow enough for the dragons to land.

Half a minute later Saphira and Fírnen were folding their wings as their Riders descended from their backs at the edge of the rise, both of them slightly out of breath. They regained their strength quickly though as they bathed in the soft streams of light emitted from a descending sun. No one spoke a word for another minute as they watched the warm light engulfing everything around them, the trees, the grass beneath their feet, the clouds in the sky.

After yet another minute and a short consultation with Saphira Eragon took a few measured steps towards Fírnen who jerked his head in his direction as he saw Eragon approaching. Saphira and Arya remained where they stood, yet granted the other two their undivided attention.

"We came to the conclusion that you fought reasonably well, dragon", Eragon spoke out aloud to Fírnen as it would be impolite to touch his mind without his permission, "Yet your balance in the air has room for improvement as well as the finesse of your attacks and defence."

"_You were fighting all your life with only very young dragons", _Saphira amended his statement, "_It is obvious you never had to compete with a skilful fighter."_

"We should do away with that if possible. Saphira will try to refine your skills in fighting and some other areas in the short time of our stay here", Eragon went on and even though he had to lift his head slightly to look into Fírnen's eyes while speaking he somehow wasn't looking small at all. Authority rang in his voice and his body language and it made the slightly younger dragon listen to him respectfully, "But we want you to know that you were coping Saphira well considering that you – fortunately – never had to kill or fight for your life hitherto."

After Eragon ended his speech Fírnen lowered his head so that his eyes were level with Eragon's.

"_I am honoured by your commendations", _he spoke with his deep, rich voice, looking at Saphira too, "_And I_ _will do my best to learn quickly, Ebrithilar."_

"_I am sure you will", _Saphira answered for them, then sealed her mind off from everyone but Eragon,

"_Is there anything else, little one?"_

Eragon shook his head once.

"_No. Go. Tell him what you have to tell him. I shall wait here with Arya and have a talk myself."_

Despite his try to sound casual Saphira could feel his apprehension, the foreboding he felt rising within himself. She nudged his shoulder with her considerable larger snout and rested it there for a moment.

"_It will all be fine, Eragon. You just have to believe it. Believe that she wants the same as you do."_

"_Does she?", _he asked back and caressed her jaw shortly.

"_But of course. Why do you think we are here?"_

With that she turned away from him, partly shutting her mind from him in the process too, and contacted Fírnen instead. Eragon was slightly taken aback by what she had said as his thoughts had never wandered in the direction she had just hinted at. He had never thought much beyond the words Arya had written in her letter, why not he could not say.

Still a little dazed he watched the two dragons communicating briefly before stepping side by side to the steep and taking wing a moment later, synchronously, rising higher and higher into the sky. Even from far beyond he could still see them for the strange mix of colours the light of sunset forced upon their shining hues.

He was gazing after them for another moment, partly enjoying the sight of the two dragons, partly steeling himself for what laid ahead of him, and felt more than heard Arya step beside him. Her eyes were on him, that he knew for sure, and so he turned his face towards her to finally meet them.

He was surprised momentarily to see a frown of confusion or puzzlement upon her face. But then he considered the abrupt departure of the dragons and wondered what Fírnen had been told by Saphira as a reason for it.

"They will take a while, I dare say", he told her, doing his best to sound nonchalant, "We can just as well make us comfortable while waiting for them to return, or what do you say?"

He didn't wait for her answer though, but walked up to a place where the grass was green and soft and sat down with his legs crossed. Trying not to pressure her or making her feel uncomfortable in any way he kept his eyes firmly on the view of the forest at the foot of the knoll and beyond as she was coming after him. A tingle rose up his spine as he saw her sitting down beside him out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head finally to look at her and found her eyes already searching for his. She wore a calm and open expression and her eyes were warm. He took a lot of courage out of that sight and smiled slightly. The silence between them stretched for another couple of seconds till Arya finally broke it.

"So you think Fírnen needs some... refinement? What is it you want to teach him?", she asked him casually but with real interest in her eyes. However he still thought that she was rather posing the question to start up a conversation.

"It's only about subtleties, Arya, really. You don't need to worry that you had missed something or did something wrong about his development, he is a dragon as healthy and fit as anyone could wish for and many of our dragons, young or old, would certainly fail in a combat against him."

Arya nodded at that as though she had already known it, yet seemed relieved anyway.

"Another issue however...", Eragon started but faltered shortly as Arya creased her brow, "Well, he is in a way in the same situation Saphira was before she met Glaedr. As he had only met with younger and so even more inexperienced dragons since we left Alagaësia he has never been told about certain things..."

"What things?", Arya asked sharply, "What do you mean?"

Eragon sensed her agitation and so tried to choose his words with more care.

"There are some things the dragons are not talking to us about; stories and facts that they share solely among themselves and with no other race, not even with their Riders, which is why I cannot tell you exactly what we are talking about.

Yet Saphira told me today that while she was talking to Fírnen yesterday she gave a comment that referred to some of these stories or so – and Fírnen didn't have a clue what she was talking about. She was surprised by his ignorance and so asked him further about other things like that and learned then quickly that he didn't know about anything of this or just very fragmentary."

He paused for a second to gather his thoughts while Arya still listened intently with slight worry on her face.

"Glaedr said once to Saphira that she only knew about her people what her instincts told her and nothing more", Eragon continued, "Of course you have shared everything with him you know and that is why he is far better off than Saphira was with me and my... absence of any knowledge to that time, but still I think the two cases are comparable. Or what do you think on that matter?"

"What shall I say about that, Eragon? Only Saphira knows the true answer or the depth of that problem, yet I think it is nothing we should underestimate. He shouldn't stay ignorant of things like that. If Saphira is right about what she told you, then he had been without that knowledge for far longer than any dragon should be... How do we help that?"

"It's easy enough", Eragon answered her with a reassuring smile, "Saphira will tell and show him everything she can in the time of our stay here. But as I don't know the extent of knowledge we are talking about I cannot tell you whether she will have time enough for all of it... I will talk to her again about that, don't worry. We will find a solution."

Arya nodded slowly yet turned her face away to stare into the distance, her thoughts just as far away. Eragon didn't take his eyes off of her however and studied her in this few moments to an extent he hadn't been able to yet since he never had been this close to her this past two days.

She was sitting beside him with her arms resting on her angled knees and her long black locks falling around her shoulders and back. She wore a fine yet casual tunic of crimson-dyed _Lámarae _and even though he was not used to so much and intensive colour in her clothing, as he had mostly ever seen her wearing armour or her leather outfit, he thought that the colour looked appealing and noble on her. What he had already noticed before – and with wonderment - was that she was wearing again a leather band to hold back her hair as she always had done during the war. He could only deem that she found it more appropriate for training than the tiara.

The wavy strands of her hair were shining in the warm light of the sun, forming a contrast to her light, smooth skin and the soft shadows underneath her high cheekbones. Above them he could see every single one of her long eyelashes with his keen eyes. Even such a simple thing as a blink of her eye was a graceful motion when she did it.

_All things considered,_ Eragon thought to himself, _some things simply never change. Not even a single, little bit._

She was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in this world.

And it made him gather all his courage.

"Arya."

She turned the moment he spoke her name and looked at him with slightly widened eyes. He had heard himself how breathy his voice had been.

"Yes?"

"I would like to talk to you."

He knew this wasn't the most ingenious way to approach her and he hoped dearly she wouldn't jump at the opportunity for a witty remark.

"About what?"

Apparently she didn't.

He felt relieved for a moment, but was sobered quickly as he tried to shape what he had to say next.

"About many things... And some of them quite delicate. I will only proceed if you feel up to it however. You are invited to stop me any time you think I am going too far. Is this alright with you?"

"Go on", came her outright reply, yet her voice showed a reluctance which Eragon quickly decided to ignore.

"First of all... I wanted to apologize. I really behaved impossibly this morning and wronged you terribly. For that I beg your pardon."

After saying this he lowered his head humbly till she replied, yet never his eyes which remained locked with Arya's own. She in turn nodded once to acknowledge his efforts.

"There is no need. You are already forgiven. We...", she was looking at him very kindly now, "Our situation is not an easy one. Your reaction was understandable."

"This is no excuse for what I said to you", but he felt relieved how self-evident she spoke about this topic, "I am far too old to let myself go like that. I've been childish and – "

Yet he was silenced once again by Arya's hand as she laid it soothingly onto his forearm. She shook her head at him to hush him, the kind expression never leaving her face. He could feel the warmth of her flesh through the fabric of his tunic and wasn't able to say anything else. She receded from the touch a few heartbeats later, but the confidence it brought to him lingered.

"Then there is another thing... Something a bit longer ago, but I still feel as though I would owe you an apology", he began but was stopped by Arya as she raised one eyebrow and looked at him queerly; he gave her a crocked smile, "I am sorry, but I think I have to."

"Really?"

"Really. You know, after this day we spoke through Nasuada's mirror, this one day nearly a hundred years ago..."

A strange moment followed after Eragon spoke these words as they both suddenly were very still.

In this moment both of them relived an unpleasant memory. In this moment both of them didn't know anymore what to say or how to behave.

This one moment were past and present were suddenly one. For just one moment. And it left him feeling as empty as he had all these years ago - as their hands had touched with a plate of cold glass between them.

"Arya... I am searching for so many answers. I have always been. I have spent all my life asking questions and the more I got to know the more questions came to my mind. But now I feel deprived of them all. I cannot find the right questions anymore – and am still striving for the answers to them."

He had kept his eyes on the ground while talking, but now he raised them again to meet her silent gaze. And silent it was. It was hard for him to see into her depths right now. Not even there he was able to find his answers – at least not for now.

"Arya, you have to believe me, it didn't want that... that estrangement, I didn't want to stay away from you for that long. But it was... difficult for me to talk to you and as the time went by... With every day I couldn't make myself contact you it got harder to even consider trying it. And so weeks became months and months became years... I am so sorry, I have been selfish. Have you been very angry with me?"

"I wasn't angry with you", she nearly whispered, "No, anger was pretty much the last thing on my mind. And you really shouldn't claim all the blame for yourself."

He wondered what his face looked like - it was certainly astonished enough to make Arya grin.

"Come on. You could just as easily blame me for the very same thing. I didn't even contact you once. I... I didn't want to force my presence on you. I knew it wouldn't be easy for you..."

It was obvious she felt uncomfortable speaking like this to him. But Eragon was glad she did, and especially because she did it despite her inhibition. He couldn't describe the extent of sympathy that rose up in his chest as he looked into her beautiful, unsure eyes.

"So where does this leave us?", he asked her, speaking very softly and watching her face all the time.

"Maybe we should agree upon a draw?", she gave back with more playfulness than he thought she would be capable to in their present situation, "No one is to blame. There is only praise for you."

At that Eragon cocked his head in surprise.

"Praise? What did I do to earn that?"

"You came up with the first grassboat-letter", Arya answered simply, "And it really was the best idea you could have had. I wondered at the first one you know. I didn't know what you wanted to tell me with it, but then more of them arrived... I think it was a very, very beautiful thing for you to do, Eragon, and I enjoyed our correspondence greatly. Maybe...", she began and looked away for the time of a heartbeat, "Maybe your grassboat-letters told me more than anything else you could have said, especially under these specific conditions. Yes, I think you truly came up with the only thing that could have kept us in touch. I don't think that a usual correspondence or talking through mirrors would have worked over this amount of time. At least we didn't break tie completely – and all because of your grassboat-letters."

Eragon didn't know what to say to this but the most obvious thing, namely that he was very grateful that she thought that way, and so he told her exactly that. He also recognized how she referred to them strictly as "grassboat-letters"; she must have used the term frequently enough so that it became an inherent part of her vocabulary. Maybe she talked with Fírnen about them and often so it seems; and that, like nothing else, told Eragon that the letters really were important to her. That he was important to her. And even though she had told him that already some long time ago he revelled in the knowledge that it still was true.

"I am touched, Arya. And I feel honoured to be your friend – back then just as today. And I hope dearly that this will stay between us in the years to come – this affection. It would be a great pity if we were to lose that just because of time and distance, don't you agree?"

In the silence which followed his words she never stopped looking at him, nor did he lift his eyes off of hers, and he was glad to find neither anger nor disapproval in them .

She didn't answer or comment to what he said however, not with words at least, but he saw the muscles underneath the skin around her mouth and eyes soften and then a very small but very kind smile brightened her features.

And this sight was enough to let hope flourish in his heart – hope that someday they would be again what they once were, that everything will fall into place again between them. He didn't wish for anything else at this moment but this.

He knew he was balancing on the edge of a knife right now, he could feel it. They still were separated by a wall of yet unspoken feelings, memories and desires of all kind. But the wall was getting thinner and thinner and he was determined to shatter it down as fast as he could. And he promised himself in this moment of trust and believe – swore by the sight of her beautiful face and the emerald eyes that he loved so much - that he would never leave her again for such a long time.

He never wanted to feel anxiety or even fear again by the prospect of meeting with her.

Arya had meanwhile rested her cheek on her folded arms but didn't cease watching him in his silent contemplation. He wondered how much of his thoughts she was able to read within his eyes.

But he was interrupted in his thoughts as his momentarily forgotten dragon touched his mind this very second with a gentle nudge and so claimed his full attention.

"_How is it going?",_ Saphira asked through their link. Eragon could feel her smugness as she felt the dispersion in his mind.

"_Fine. Really. Much better than I thought it would. How about you?"_

"_I will tell him now. Would you mind to tell Arya?"_

"_Do you think this is right? It is Fírnen's decision, too."_

"_Do you really think he will keep secret from her? No. And Arya is _my _friend, too. And I want her to know about him."_

"_Alright. I am convinced. If this is what you want..."_

"_It is. I will give notice when we are on our way back to you."_

With that she withdrew from his mind and left him on his own again with a curious elf that was looking at him in a way that told him that her own dragon didn't contact her for explanations.

"They are fine. Saphira just told me... Well, she wants me to relay something to you", he was speaking a tad slower than usual for he was unsure how to tell her something as monumental as this and she recognized the change in his demeanour immediately.

"To me?"

"Yes. She is telling Fírnen about it this very moment and, as they will be occupied for a little while longer, she wants me to inform you in her stead."

"And about what does she want me informed?", her voice was purposely calm. Eragon grinned; he knew he was beating around the bush and Arya had the most interesting ways to remind him of it. He took a deep breath to steady himself. He wasn't sure how she would react to this.

"A few weeks after we left Alagaësia it became obvious that Saphira...", he began and then decided to just blurt it out since he wouldn't be able to alleviate the impact of his words no matter how he said them, "She laid an egg a few months after we arrived in what was to become Minuial."

Silence followed his statement for a long suspended moment as Arya became as rigid as if carved out of stone beside him. Her features remained just as still, yet he knew her well enough to see first incredulousness, joy and then anger flash through her eyes.

"She laid an egg... an egg of Fírnen's?", she spoke silently, yet Eragon could tell that her voice was kept calm with lots of effort.

"Yes, of course."

She stared at him for another tight moment and he watched the thoughts that danced behind her eyes with the speed of light.

"You – Saphira and you – you should have told us. You should have told us immediately."

Then she apparently wasn't able to take the tension any longer and jumped to her feet. Eragon watched her a bit sadly as she stepped with stiff legs to the edge of the rise and away from him. He gave her some time to gather herself again, he understood how difficult it must be for her to deal with this particular piece of information, but soon enough stood up to walk up to her side, slowly so to give her the opportunity to object his presence. As she did nothing to stop him from approaching though he stepped closer till he stood directly beside her again. For quite some time they watched the sunset together and how the tops of the trees were bathed in blood-red light as the sun descended behind them. But soon Eragon sensed that Arya understood it as his duty to break the silence in this situation and so decided quickly to do so.

"Please listen to my, Arya. Maybe we should have told you, maybe not. It wouldn't have changed anything, would it?"

"Maybe, maybe not. We will never know now", she answered, and quite coolish so.

"Saphira wanted to tell it Fírnen herself and there has never been an opportunity for that till now. And it was a bit... well, a bit as it was between us – the longer you delay something like this...", he trailed off, but Arya finally turned her face towards him again. She looked still a little angered, at least he thought so, but there was also a deep and tender emotion in her eyes that he had rarely ever seen within her.

"He's got a child... A child, Eragon."

"Yes", he saw now that she was definitely touched, her eyes were very bright, "A son who goes by the name of Chiaran. He is wild and lives with the other wild-born dragons in another valley as we do, but we meet him frequently to fly or hunt with him. He is also blue, but lighter than Saphira, light blue like a clear summer sky."

Arya listened intently to him, nearly absorbing his words, but he could tell she felt a little crestfallen. And Eragon somehow felt as though he had betrayed her indeed.

"Arya, we didn't keep this from you in bad faith, we just thought... We didn't want to force you into such a double bind, it would have only brought pain. I mean... we thought for a very long time that we would never see you again, you know. It is all a bit different now. I hope we didn't disappoint you too much. I tried my hardest to make the best out of it."

"Yes, I know you did that. And I know you would not hurt us on purpose", she spoke quietly and made Eragon's heart sink despite her tender words.

_But you tell me we have hurt you nonetheless, don't you?, _he thought to himself, but couldn't make himself ask her about it.

For a long time they stood there on a knoll in the middle of Du Weldenvarden and watched the advancing evening till the first stars appeared in the skies. They never spoke a word in this time as each of them followed the course of their own thoughts. Saphira contacted Eragon in the meantime to tell him that she and Fírnen were now on their way back to them.

"The way to Minuial", Arya tore Eragon out of his reverie, "How long is it from here?"

"Two weeks if a dragon flies swiftly with tailwind, three if you are less fortunate", Eragon sighed, "I know what you think of and I understand that it is no easy decision to make, but there are many reasons good and sound for both of you to grant us a short visit. You really should consider it, Arya."

"I know. But I cannot tell", she shook her head, "I really cannot tell. But see, there they come!"

And for sure, two small dots were flying towards them from the end of the horizon and glittered like stars. But Eragon still dwelled on her dilemma and couldn't appreciate the view of them as much as he wanted to.

"It's a pity, really. Every Rider should be able to see the home of our order", he said and looked at her again as she was still staring straight ahead towards Fírnen and Saphira who were approaching quickly by now, "And I would be glad to have you there, too. Even if just for a short time."

At that Arya all at once turned to him again; her eyes were now devoid of any kind of resentment and only filled with wonder and a slight disarray. He understood that his words had unsettled her, but he felt... disordered enough to ignore the alarm in her gaze.

"Arya, Saphira said something to me before they left... and it made me wonder about what I somehow never thought about before. Arya... Why am I here? Can you explain that to me?"

Her bewilderment strengthened even more at his words, but there was suddenly something else, something he felt he had missed when looking into her eyes these last past minutes. But he remembered. As always.

"I don't know, Eragon. Sometimes I do. But then I lose it again. But it's never very important for me anyway. Do you understand that?", he was startled how intensive her voice suddenly rang in his ears and he knew she could see the effect it had on him.

"And what about you?", she spoke on, "Do you need a reason to be here? And do I really have to give you one?"

The dragons approached for landing just as she had closed her lips and Eragon felt quite grateful for that. For Arya turned away now towards Fírnen and thus spared him to answer any of her questions. It would be hard enough for him to ponder them in the coming hours.

Eragon followed her example and stepped to Saphira's side who lowered her head in front of him. He laid his hand onto her forehead and studied her shimmering sapphire eyes for any kind of turmoil, but they were as gentle and calm as her mind felt as they joined a moment later. He knew she was fine and that everything went well with Fírnen and that had to be enough for now, there would be room enough to talk later tonight when they were alone again.

"It's getting late, we should go now", he heard Arya saying firmly and as he turned his head he saw that she was already sitting in Fírnen's saddle. She obviously was just as eager to retire to her home. For sure she had a lot of questions for her dragon in her mind.

Eragon nodded his agreement and mounted Saphira with practiced grace. He felt tired from today's events, but he didn't want to end his first day in Ellesméra with gloomy thoughts. Strapping his legs to the saddle he transmitted his suggest to Saphira and felt her imminent agreement. Both he and his dragon turned towards the other pair in unison, Eragon with a slanted grin on his face whereas Saphira growled challenging at Fírnen.

"Are you up to some practice before dinner?"

Arya returned his grin and as an answer Fírnen rose swiftly into the air with a light of wild excitement dancing in his eyes. Saphira gave a deafening roar at the pure anticipation she was feeling and jumped after him, ever rising higher into the skies till she matched his height. The dragons hurtled towards each other as both tried to win the honour of the first strike.

Just a fragment of a second before the impact Eragon's gaze drifted towards the Rider in the green dragon's saddle and his eyes met with Arya's. A ferocious grin spread across her face as she locked gazes with her opponent, her long black hair whipping around her face.

He had seen this gaze before, the untamed fierceness she only showed on the battlefield.

_My shield-mate._

He had seen it so often before... This gaze in these eyes...

_My Arya..._

And the dragons clashed.

* * *

><p>Hey guys,<p>

at first sorry for the delay ;( but I really tried to pull off a decent chap 6 and i think i succeeded so far... But you tell me ;)

And please give me lots of reviews for this, i felt a little let down by how few i got for the last one... was it that bad? I read it through again and - well i know it was a babble-chapter, but come on... i didnt find it that terrible... what did i do wrong? did i do something wrong? (well of course i know there are mistakes but was it so bad in general?)

I hope you like this one better and i promise, really promise to post another till next sunday or monday, though it will be quite short. it will be an Aryas pov-chap again and at first a wanted to attach it to the end of this chap but then didnt find it fitting to do so...

See you! AryaNuanen


	8. Chapter 7 On the Way back home

Just an hour later the stars were already shining brightly in the darkening skies, each one of them as brilliant as a tiny diamond. A soft wind was blowing from the East and caused a rustle in the pine trees; it was the only thing that disturbed this otherwise silent night in Ellesméra. It was beautiful and calm, a sight and spirit for sure to behold, and Arya felt the wish rise up inside of her that her thoughts and feelings were just as serene as her surroundings.

Even though they had left Eragon and Saphira for quite some time now she and Fírnen were still in the air. After the dragons' final combat they had decided in silent agreement not to fly back straight to Ellesméra but to make a wide detour around the outskirts of the city as they both had a lot on their minds and felt far too agitated to find rest at their home on the Crags of Tel'naeír.

Arya took a deep breath. The news about Fírnen's offspring and the whole situation with Eragon had worn her down more than she had expected and the tension it brought with it was still circling in her heart and mind. She closed her eyes for a moment and leaned her head back to let the cool night air caress her face. It felt surprisingly soothing.

"_We are done for today, aren't we?", _Fírnen finally roused her out of her reverie, "_There is nothing left to do?"_

"_Nothing I am aware of at least. I don't think we need to stop at Tialdarí-Hall, Däthedr would have called me if there was an issue. Let's fly directly to the hut..."_

"_It's about time. It was a long day."_

"_That it was", _Arya agreed her thoughts still on their previous encounter with the other dragon and Rider, "_You fought well today."_

Fírnen's chuckle rang through her mind.

"_I did my best. What would Saphira think of me if I were fighting like a weakling?"_

This elicited a grin to spread over Arya's face, she patted Fírnen's shoulder gently.

"_You could never be a weakling, Fírnen, not in a single aspect and I am sure Saphira is well aware of that."_

"_Maybe, but still...", _then suddenly a cheeky amusement reached her through their link, "_Maybe I have to talk to Eragon about that, I am sure he felt the same whenever he was sparing with you!_"

Arya chose not to answer to that but let her dragon feel her slight disapproval. His words however directed her thoughts back to where they had lingered for the better part of the evening. She quickly forgot about the annoyance she had felt but a moment ago and was surprised herself as her heart filled up with a deep nostalgia.

"_He has changed, don't you think so? I am quite impressed."_

"_Concerning what?"_

"_I cannot really say, it is hard to put into words what had made me wonder, he was so very eloquently as he spoke with the council and his whole demeanour so confident... He has... grown, I think that summarizes my impressions quite well."_

"_It was a very long time."_

Arya naturally had to agree to that, but the effect this amount of time had had on him still unsettled her. It wasn't easy for her to relate the friend she remembered, her closest of friends, to the man that spoke to her just minutes ago. He had never spoken to her that clearly, that forthright and decided before, not when their relationship or its future was concerned at least. Despite his former words she felt as though he was indeed_ not_ asking that much questions anymore, but spoke his opinion clearly without reluctance out of fear of her possible reactions and let her decide for herself what to think and feel about his words.

She was quite impressed. Really.

"_What about the things that didn't change in him, have you ever thought about them?", _her dragon inquired.

"_What do you mean with that?", _she had to ask as she sensed a deeper meaning behind his words.

"_Well, he had told you his _name_ once, am I right? You know exactly who he was back then, what about now? Is he still the one you once knew so much?"_

She thought on that for far longer than a minute and watched the inner city of Ellesméra beneath her as they were flying across it towards their home. But the conclusion she came to after her contemplation didn't surprise her in the least.

"_I cannot say. I really cannot say. There are so many qualities in him that are spoken of in his true name and I am sure most of them are still true for him. But whether they have extended over time or decreased or were erased – speaking both of virtues and vices – that I cannot say... I haven't seen or heard enough from him to judge that for now. Do _you_ think his name has changed?"_

"_As I said before, it was a very long time and for sure he had grown with the challenge his position presented itself as, just as you said before. It would be cause for worry if he – and by that his name – hadn't changed in the process, I think."_

"_My name didn't change, not because of the time that had elapsed since then, nor because of my position as a queen that was as new to me as his was to him."_

"_Sure. But can't you think of a reason for that? There is a point where your positions differed, I think."_

It didn't take her long to see what her dragon saw – especially since she could see hints of it in his mind.

"_I am older than him. And I have been comparatively even older than him a hundred years ago. You are right. I've been..."_

"_You were _done_, a hundred years ago. You were grown in both body and mind for long even. What new things you experienced as a queen weren't significant enough to change anything within your deeper character. Maybe it was different for him. He was still very young as he left Alagaësia and became the leader of our order." _

Arya was sure what they thought of was true, the reasoning was sound enough to satisfy her deeper sense of logic and reason. But another question crept slowly into her mind as she pondered about the issue, something that she somehow never thought of before.

"_He was very young, yes... and we haven't seen each other for so long now, I wonder..."_

"_What are you thinking about? I can see a worry looming deep inside you, but what is it about?", _he was surprised at the sudden unease he felt within her.

"_It's just... I have never thought about that before, nor should it be of my concern, but... You are right, he has grown to a man in Minuial both in body and mind...", _she faltered shortly, but swiftly regained control again, "_I am just wondering whether he had ever called a woman his own... It would only be logical – righteous for him, but I cannot really picture it."_

"_And why are you speaking in the past? He could as well be with someone _now_."_

"_Right...", _Arya agreed but couldn't completely defy the uncomfortable feeling that rose up inside her chest.

"_If you would like to know why don't you just ask him about it?"_

She could only narrowly prevent herself from grimacing at his proposal but was sure her dragon felt what she thought about his idea nonetheless.

"_Arya, if you don't want to talk to him why did you ask him to come?_"

"_I do want to speak with him and I did for the whole of the evening if you don't remember, but I cannot possible ask him something like this..."_

"_You said he is your best friend... What do you want to speak about with him then? The weather?"_

Arya made a low sound in her throat at that and wondered at the same time whether Saphira was annoying Eragon just that much from time to time. She could imagine it quite well.

"_You are twisting the words in my mouth", _she narrowed her eyes, "_Is there a specific reason why you try so stubbornly to... to pair me off with him? Or do you just do it for the fun of it?"_

Fírnen let out a large puff of smoke at that and Arya felt an incredible amusement swell within him.

"_Do I pair you off with him? I only want to help you warm up with an old friend..."_

"_For sure... But honestly, why are you this insistent?"_

Silence followed her words for some very long moments and she felt the amusement drain slowly from Fírnen's mind as it was replaced by a feeling much more severe and tender as well.

"_You know I wouldn't try to push you in a direction you don't want to go. But… somehow I think you _want_ to go into that direction and just need a little pushing… Do you understand what I mean?"_

But only silence answered him his question.

"_I think he would do you good, Arya. He is a good Rider – and a good man." _

"_How do you want to know that?", _but her question was very feeble and she knew Fírnen would sense that immediately.

"_Because you know it. And because you have shown it to me some very long time ago… I would be surprised – not to say a bit disappointed – if you wouldn't be able to see it yourself now."_

Arya didn't reply to him anymore after his, at least not with words, but she could feel that her dragon was listening very closely to every feeling and notion that flashed up in her mind.

After a while though she felt like she couldn't bear to ponder about that topic anymore and decided to change it. They were close to the Crags now anyway and she suddenly felt very tired.

"_What about you? How do you feel about this day's revelations?"_

"_About my son… It is news both marvellous and terrible. I cannot grasp the whole magnitude of this right now, I think. But I am very glad to know it. The only thing is…"_

"_Yes?"_

"_I would very much like to meet him."_

Arya knew he would feel like this, it was only natural that he would want to see his offspring one day, but she had feared this just as much. And suddenly she could understand much better why Eragon and Saphira had held their tongues all these years about Chiaran.

"_I know. I would like to see him too_", she whispered to his mind as Fírnen was just about to change the angle of his wings in the air to reduce their speed. A few seconds later he was standing on the edge of the Crags of Tel'naeír and Arya nimbly descended from his back.

"_If everything just wouldn't be this difficult… But it always seems difficult and never once gets easier…", _she spoke to him with a gentle voice, meaning both his and her situation as a whole, and patted his cheek before stepping towards the hut that she called her home. She was already halfway through the door as Fírnen spoke again.

"_Just watch out not to make your life even more difficult by yourself, Arya."_

She turned around again as he said that to her, yet Fírnen had already curled up for sleeping at the edge of the crag.

But she knew quite well what he had meant with his words anyways.


	9. Ch 8 Under the Menoa Tree  The Second

**Chapter 8 - Under the Menoa Tree - The Second**

_Dear Eragon,_

_I dearly regret that I have to send you this short-run message in writing, but I have been busy the entire day and my decision was made just as rapid as I wrote this letter._

_Nevertheless I would like to ask you if you want to join me this evening to help with the preparations of the Agaetí Blödhren. I would appreciate your company and hope you are free to come, but I will understand of course if you have already made another appointment._

_If you are willing to come meet us on the Crags of Tel'naeír in an hour's time._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Arya_

It was the early evening of their fifth day in Ellesméra as this letter arrived together with his dinner. Eragon was kneeling on his bed as he read her message and the tablet with his food laid beside him, momentarily forgotten.

"_So what do you say?",_ Saphira asked him with a casual tone from her place on the soft cushion that was laid down for her on the plateau across the room.

"_Well, we do not have another appointment, do we? Or do you have something in mind?"_

"_No. This dear acquaintance of mine had been busy along with yours obviously..."_

"_Of course. I am glad to hear from Arya again, I was starting to feel anxious...",_ he said thinking back and about the last two days. He hadn't seen Arya much but for some official occasions where other elves had always been within earshot. Thus they had naturally only shared shallow talk about general subjects that didn't mean much to neither of them. The last time they had really spent some time together was on the rise when they had tested Fírnen's prowess. And this had been three days ago now.

"_Why anxious? You've been talking to her every day, only shortly maybe, but you did. What is there to feel anxious about?"_

"_I don't know...",_ he contemplated this for a moment, _"I guess it was the way she... remained aloof. I didn't like it. I was starting to think I had gone too far before. Or that she was mad at me – or us for that matter - for not telling them of Chiaran after all."_

"_Eragon",_ Saphira's voice was suddenly sharp and as Eragon met her eyes her gaze was burning into his with force, _"Have you ever noticed that you always take the blame on yourself when Arya is concerned? I have seen this many times now and it really starts to annoy me."_

Eragon couldn't keep a wry smile from appearing on his face nor could he help the small mirthless laugh that escaped his lips.

"_Am I doing that, yes? What can I say, Saphira? We are all fools in love."_

At his words Saphira puffed a pall of smoke that Eragon interpreted as a snort of disdain.

"_I don't think so."_

"_What do you mean? You cannot deny that most people act... irrational when it comes to love..."_

"_No, I didn't mean that",_ Saphira cut him off and cocked her head curiously, _"No, you might very well be right about that... I mean I don't think that Arya is mad at you. Fírnen would have told me about something like this. I am sure she had just been busy, that's all."_

"_I really hope you are right, you know."_

"_There is no need to worry, did you expect her to talk to you like you did on that knoll when half her court is surrounding you? And don't forget that there is quite a chance that she just needed some space for herself."_

Eragon frowned unsure of her meaning.

"_Oh come on",_ Saphira rolled her eyes, _"You gave her quite something to think about the last time you met, didn't you? We both did."_

Saphira eyed him closely for a moment and Eragon felt as though she would see right through him to his core.

"_I understand that this is hard on you – on both of you, Eragon. How do you feel about it – about her now?"_

He looked at the ground as he thought about an answer and his folded hands were resting in his lap.

"_It feels... better. I feel like I can really appreciate her company now again, now that all this horrible apprehension and unsureness in her presence is finally ebbing away... But not completely, no. We are not where we have once been, not yet... There is still a wall of glass... of ice between us. It's already melting away, but it's still there... Yes, I think that is the right way to describe it."_

"_And again I ask you",_ his dragon inquired, _"Did you really expect anything else in such a short amount of time?"_

He shrugged his shoulders.

"_I don't know what I expected to happen. Really. Just to imagine to be close to her again, to even talk to her again seemed so unlikely in the beginning... It was impossible to think beyond that."_

He sighed.

"_My poor little-one",_ Saphira said with a soft growl escaping her at the same time, but just a heartbeat later mirth bubbled up and through her mind, _"And poorer even! Look at your food, I am sure it is cold by now!"_

Eragon's eyes widened at the sudden turn their talk had taken and was surprised and amused in such a way that he could only laugh at his dragon's words.

* * *

><p>An hour later Saphira and Eragon were already floating high in the air above the dark pines. They left the major part of Ellesméra behind in not much more than a short minute and soon the green lawn and the pale chalk cliff of the crags of Tel'naeír where Arya and Fírnen were waiting for them came into in sight.<p>

"_It looks still the same as it did the time we had been here with Glaedr and Oromis, don't you think so? I wouldn't be surprised to find the streaks of mine and Glaedr's claws still marking the ground",_ Saphira mumbled with nostalgia heavily swinging in her voice. Eragon patted her shoulder gently.

"_I know. This is what I feared from the very beginning: The ground we are walking on during this trip seems to be plastered with old memories wherever we set our feet. If it wasn't for Arya I would have never agreed to come back again but maybe for the most pressing of issues."_

"_And for Fírnen of course!",_ Saphira pointed out but he felt her agreement through their joined minds.

"_And for Fírnen of course",_ Eragon smirked and jerked his head into the direction they were heading, _"See, he is already waiting for us."_

And sure enough Fírnen was laying on the very edge of the crag where his own sparkling emerald hue was outshining the luscious colour of the grass he had bedded himself in. He lifted his head from his crossed front paws as he saw Saphira diving through the heavy sheet of gray clouds in the skies and an instant later his salutatory below echoed through the forest. It was answered joyously by Saphira's own as they shot down towards the edge of the cliff.

Eragon gaze wandered over the wide lawn yet he couldn't see Arya anywhere. But then he recognized a movement in the corner of his eye while Saphira was already approaching for landing and as he turned his head he met the shape of Arya just stepping out of the door of what used to be his old master's hut. He lost his focus for a moment as Saphira met the ground with a hard impact and Arya vanished from his view. But he recuperated swiftly and hurried with sliding smoothly from the quite considerable height of Saphira's back to the ground underneath.

As he looked around he found Arya still standing in front of the hut's door with Fírnen who had risen from his laying position now by her side. Smiling he strode leisurely towards them, Saphira close behind, and absorbed the view in front of him. It struck him with ambivalence.

The old hut – neatly and well-kept, but old still – looked just as it did a hundred years ago, as the last Agaetí Blödhren was approaching, and the sight evoked loads of memories in him - memories of his masters and all the months he had spent learning and training here – learning what it meant to be a Dragon Rider. He found himself filled with such deep feelings of loss and sorrow that he had to steady himself by taking a deep breath before he could focus on his surroundings again.

But on the other hand there was Arya.

And most notably she was already searching his gaze, guessing maybe what he felt like being here again and waiting maybe for him to speak to her. Eragon's smile widened slightly as he walked up to her and her dragon, his gloomy thoughts melting into a deep quietude with every second he looked into her deep green eyes.

"Greetings, Arya Dröttning – and Fírnen", he touched his lips with his fingers after speaking, but refrained from using a formal greeting. He hoped dearly they were beyond that by now.

"Greetings as well, Shadeslayer – and Bjartskular. I am glad you came, your time here is limited, very much so, and we shouldn't waste the few days we yet have."

Apparently they were.

"You are very right. And you should know that we have always time for you."

Her face remained silent for a moment, but only shortly, and soon she smiled, taking his words as the joke she knew they were not.

"So, what do you have in mind for tonight? You were talking about "preparations"?", Eragon asked her casually and felt Saphira talk with Fírnen in the back of his mind.

"Yes, the Menoa Tree and the surrounding glade will be decorated tonight for the feast and it is traditional for the leader of our people to help – and a pleasure, too. And I thought you might enjoy to join in and...", she blinked once in a pensive way and folded her fingers in front of her, "The celebration will be taking place the day after tomorrow and I know you will have to leave soon again... I thought tonight would be a good opportunity to spent some time together."

Eragon nodded his agreement while trying desperately to defy any thoughts about what might be in a few days. He only partly succeeded.

"Would you like to drink something before we leave? A tea maybe?", Arya shook him out of his brooding.

"That would be much appreciated, thank you."

She nodded and smiled at his words while turning swiftly and entering her home yet again. Eragon couldn't help to notice that she left the door wide open behind her and curiosity overcame him. He took a few measured steps forward, wondering what changes its new owner might have brought to the small rooms and then just as carefully, for he wasn't sure if Arya was all right with him to see into her most private rooms, stepped through the shallow doorframe to peer inside. But his fears had been for nothing – Arya watched his curiosity with obvious amusement while boiling up some water at a countertop to his right.

The room looked as it always had to Eragon – and then again totally different. He recognized the table and chair in front of one of the small windows – the very same table he had been sitting and writing at during his apprenticeship – and the shelf where Oromis used to store the numerous scrolls and papers he had called his own, only that there was a lot more space on the shelf now since Eragon had taken the scrolls which belonged to the Riders with him on his long journey to Minuial where they now were kept in their own vast library. What has changed in the familiar rooms were only details. Arya had subtly adapted the room to her character and her likings without tarnishing its history.

But what attracted and held Eragon's gaze and interest weren't the multicoloured flowers that stood on the windows' sledges nor the deep green cloths which covered most of the furniture, but a rather small commode that stood in the corner of the room. The sight of it in this rooms was foreign to Eragon, but he thought he had seen it in Arya's apartment in Tialdarí-Hall before. And also the three small trees which were grown in the shapes of the glyphs for strength, wisdom and peace were standing on it and made Eragon wonder whether they were still the same trees he had seen these many years ago. But his thoughts dwelled only shortly on these magnificent plants for beside them and so in the very middle of the commode's surface stood a rather amply glass dome and within it a small boat made of grass and twigs was floating in circles as a goldfish in its jar.

Eragon's eyes followed the smooth movements of the boat with fascination and he swiftly decided to take the risk and walked up to it. He recognized soon that the grass boat wasn't the only remarkable object there. Beside the bell jar two stacks of papers were resting underneath a set of beautiful paperweights shaped as dragons - one was green and the other was blue. He identified the handwriting on the upper sheets immediately as his own.

But what was the most significant thing for him on this tabletop stood behind the two stacks and it outshone even the coy playfulness of the floating grass boat. It was a fairth; a fairth he knew very well, only that it was now enclosed in a noble frame of white gold wires.

It was the fairth he had made of Arya the day he had learned that she shared his fate as a Rider.

He glanced over his shoulder back to her after observing the small collection for another minute and still found her standing at the counter across the room with two steaming cups of tea now in her hands. It was impossible for Eragon to define the feelings that swelled up in his chest and Arya's face didn't betray anything of what she might see in his eyes. But he felt very warm inside – just as warm as Arya's eyes that were still locked with his.

The silent moment was broken with a blink of Arya's eyes and Eragon turned back to the assembly in front of him as she made her way towards him. He was still gazing at the fairth when she came to a halt beside him.

"You kept them all?", he asked her lowly, meaning the dozens of papers. As he took a closer look now he could see that the latest of them were still curled up at the edges or flexed from their long journey in a tiny boat.

"Did you expect me to throw them away?", she gave back and handed him one of the cups.

"Thank you", he smiled, "No, not really... But I never thought much of what might happen to them in deed. I only hoped you liked them", he nodded towards the boat underneath the glass dome, "It is the first one, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"It is so long ago I sent it on its way...", his thoughts jumped back to these times for a moment and he winced inwardly at the recollection of the hardship of his first months in Minuial. He quickly sipped at his peppermint tea for cover and immediately scalded his tongue.

"I enchanted it so that it won't wither as time goes by. And since then it floats on and on and on and is here - with me...", her gazed rested on the small object as she spoke and as Eragon turned his head to look at her he found her deep in thoughts.

"And what of the rest of them?"

Arya blinked once and seemed to collect herself again, yet her eyes never left the floating boat. She smiled.

"I modified the spell you had inflicted upon them and set them free. I am sure most of them have fallen apart up to now, but maybe some are still out there..."

Eragon turned towards her at her words and returned her gaze fondly. He liked the idea of his boats flying through Du Weldenvarden till they found a worthy grave on the soft forest ground. In Arya's home.

"Since you asked so surprisedly, what did you do with mine?", she asked and her smile widened as he raised his brows in wonder.

"I kept them with me as long as they remained intact and when their time came... then I used what I could of them for my... for my garden," he spoke carefully, and for a good reason so, but Arya seemed to sense his caution and watched him queerly. Yet his gaze remained firm and that apparently was enough for her to refrain from asking any further. She changed the subject quickly.

"I wanted to ask you something else. Something I came to think of for quite a long time now."

"Yes?"

"Well, since my mother had already added your first poem to our library I thought we could proceed with these likewise?", she asked dipping her head at the papers on the commode, "They are quite good pieces of poetry and I must admit I find the idea of an anthology of the works of the great Eragon Shadeslayer, the first leader of the Riders since the Fall, endearing. As I said, I am toying with this idea for a long time now, but it wouldn't have been right to publish your works without your consent and thus I never acted on it. What do you think about it?"

Eragon considered her idea for a long moment and couldn't say he was averse to it, yet there was one thing that made him hesitate.

"Of course most of them are very personal", Arya began as she sensed what she interpreted as scepticism, "If you feel uncomfortable about it – "

"No, no", Eragon cut her off and shook his head with a grin, "They are very personal indeed, yet I have nothing to hide or to be ashamed of. It's just... I am not sure, but maybe it's too early for that. I don't think they are done… Do you know what I mean?"

Arya thought about his words for a time, her head slightly inclined.

"I have an inkling of it…"

"And what about yours? Have you ever thought about making them public?", Eragon asked and smiled because she seemed taken aback; then his gaze became very gentle, "I have all of them still with me too, you know."

She didn't reply to his statement, yet there was a movement in her eyes he couldn't quite place. But the lines of her face seemed to relax under his searching gaze and her eyes were very peaceful.

"I would say we wait another while, till they are... brought down to a round figure so to say."

Arya nodded.

"Yes, I think you are right with that. It's always unfortunate to go on a journey without being aware of your destination... I agree, let's wait."

Eragon nodded and turned his head back to the fairth on the commode. He watched it closely, remembering the time and place he had crafted it – and all the other circumstances that had torn at his heart and mind to that time. It hadn't changed at all, it was still perfect. Just as perfect as its motif.

He reached out his hand and touched the smooth frame, still absorbed in his contemplation as another, much smaller hand joined his and touch the same frame – just on opposite side.

Eragon watched this hand for a short moment, the gentle fingertips that rested delicately on the polished metal. Then he turned his head yet again, searching and finding Arya's eyes. They weren't saying a word, no, words were unnecessary in this moment as both of them remembered the past and built a bridge to the present – to what was now happening to them. To the person that was now standing aside them.

An impatient growl from beyond the small window in front of them loosened the tension of the moment and both their hands were drawn back. Eragon saw Arya blinking once and suddenly her demeanour became businesslike again. She nodded to the half-full cup in Eragon's left hand.

"Why don't you drink your tea outside in the sun? The view is magnificent and never dulls the eye no matter how often you come to enjoy it. I will join you soon, I just would like to change into something more comfortable for the evening."

Eragon inclined his head and respected her subtle way of telling him that the moment was over.

"Of course. I will wait with our dragons at the cliff."

He threw a last glance at the lovely fairth and then stepped away from the commode and out of the small hut. Arya had followed him politely to the door and now shut it with a friendly nod behind him. Sighing Eragon looked towards the two dragons. They were bathing in the warm streams of the late sun, laying side by side with their snouts touching. He smiled at the sight, happy for Saphira and Fírnen to have found each other. With yet another sigh he strode forward again and walked up to Saphira's side.

"_It's about time",_ Saphira told him with her mind without even opening her closed eye lids, _"I am glad you get along so well with each other, but it's really about time that we go now or the Great Leader of the Riders and his Queen will miss the spectacle."_

"My _Queen?",_ Eragon snorted, but in good will, _"You are still dreaming, I think."_

Eragon was surprised to hear Fírnen's rich voice echoing through his mind.

"_That depends on how you treat the matter in hand, I dare say",_ he told him but ceased the contact somewhat after speaking, leaving Eragon's thoughts yelling internally with what felt like a lifetime of questions.

"_Little one...",_ Saphira tried both to set his mind at ease and to warn him from interfering with what could only concern Fírnen and his Rider.

But Fírnen took both of them by surprise.

"_We dragons and Riders share a bond that runs deeper than anything else in our lives will ever do, yet we are... constricted in a way that is just as unique. I am sure you are aware of that",_ the iris of an emerald eye jerked to look straight at him, _"Never being alone doesn't necessarily mean that you never feel lonely."_

Eragon's steadfast gaze never wavered as he looked deep into Fírnen's piercing eye.

"_I understand what you say, my friend. And I am very well aware of it, too",_ he hesitated for a short moment, choosing his next words with care, _"I am not one to worm secrets out of people who do not want to give them away – and I will not start with it now – but your words must have served a purpose, I am sure. Would you like to share it with me?"_

A deep growl rolled through Fírnen's mind, followed by a strange clucking sound – he chuckled.

"_Very eloquently, Master Eragon. Arya told me once that you had always made steady progress when it came to the arts of the spoken word. I am sure she will be impressed by your further accomplishments."_

Eragon managed an uneven smile as Fírnen blinked at him – even though Saphira gave a slight growl at her partner. Eragon knew why: The way Fírnen spoke with him touched the marginal, even if he only meant well. But Eragon soothed his dragon with a gentle touch of his mind. They couldn't put Fírnen on par with the dragons from Minuial for contrary to them he wasn't and never had been a student of theirs. And he was bound to see Eragon in a different light as the other, younger dragons do, for he shared his mind with Arya and she of course knew as what Eragon had begun as.

Thus he only smiled.

"_Shall I take that as an attempt to distract me?"_

Fírnen puffed out some smoke in amusement.

"_What lays directly in front of us is sometimes the hardest for us to see – none of us is an exception to this rule",_ he spoke very clearly now, his voice changing into a deeper, more serious tone, _"I am very glad that you are here, Eragon. And not only because you brought Saphira with you."_

Fírnen nudged her neck after speaking and had Eragon trying desperately to defy the feeling that echoed through her at her mate's gentle touch.

"_No, I am glad for _you_ to be here, too. And even though this is a difficult situation for you and Arya – and with that for all the four of us – I am sure it will bring us benefit",_ the skin around his sparkling green eye slackened now, getting very soft, _"She lacks a good friend, Eragon. I know that more than once fate had been gracious to her, but much more than once it had been just as cruel to her. She has been through much without ever having much comfort. Even now our path is hidden from me – I am counting on you to help her find it, Eragon. She is - "_

But Fírnen broke off in the middle of the sentence and suddenly rose to his full height; Saphira followed his example quickly. Just half a second later Eragon heard the low squeaking of the wooden door behind him and, turning his head, saw Arya stepping out of the hut, now dressed in a sightly yet casual dark blue tunic. Even though her gaze was locked strictly with Fírnen's he wasn't surprised to see her frowning.

He decided to respect their privacy however and instead stepped to Saphira who was already expecting his approach. In an unspoken agreement he leaped up and onto her back; the warmth of her scales was comforting in the cool evening, even if not as much as her closeness and he revelled in it in silence.

After a minute of waiting for some signs from the other pair Eragon decided to take the risk and turned again, only to find Arya just climbing up her dragon's back too. Her frown had disappeared again, yet there was a tightness around her eyes that made him wonder.

"Let's go?", he asked her with a lower voice than he had intended as.

She nodded.

"Let's go."

The dragons leaped simultaneously into the skies, circling each other till they reached a decent height and then directed their course towards the centre of Ellesméra, to the glade of the Menoa Tree.

* * *

><p>The Queen, the Leading Rider and their dragons were greeted eagerly by the elves in the glade. Joy and admiration was obvious in their eyes and voices and they invited them immediately to join in their activities.<p>

So Eragon, Arya, Saphira and Fírnen found themselves helping the decoration of the forest surrounding the giant Menoa Tree which as always would be the very centre of the celebration. And even though Eragon felt that Arya's foremost aim and function there was getting in contact with her people, for she spoke much and freely with everyone around, asking questions and sharing thoughts with the other elves that were neither too casual nor too personal, he was still impressed that she as a queen blended so easily with the "common folk" - he had never seen a royal hanging up paper lanterns and garlands or putting on the table cloths for a feast. Surprisingly she looked very natural doing things like this and, so thought Eragon, very kind too.

He spoke to her about his observations as they found themselves with the last bunch of lanterns but otherwise rather alone directly underneath the branches of the Menoa Tree. And by the way Arya peered at him from his side he knew she was amused by the train of his thoughts.

"And I am astonished that this seems so foreign to you", she asked him dryly, but he heard the mischief in her voice, "Aren't you helping with things like this at your home?"

"I do. But there is a considerable difference there – I am no king."

"But you are the leader of what you deem your people – just as me. There is not so much difference between us as you think", her tone got more serious now.

"I know, Arya. That's not what I meant. I just...", he smiled crookedly at her. He wasn't sure whether it was wise to say what he had in mind, but decided to take the risk, "I just cannot imagine... Did your mother often do things like that?"

He thought she was taken aback by his words for the time of the heart beat; he had seen the small twitch of her hand before she regained her control over it to straighten a bright orange lamp hanging from one of the branches.

"Well...", the corners of her mouth twitched, "Only if she really had to."

Eragon chuckled at her words but kept it lightly out of fear to give an unintended insult.

"I thought as much", he kept his voice light as well and was relieved to see Arya return his gaze with the faintest of smiles – but a smile nonetheless.

They continued their work for some minutes in an easy silence and Eragon wasn't discontent with that. No words could describe the relief he felt at being with her again without any major tension between them. He couldn't feel the closeness, the incredible closeness they once had, not yet, but he was marvelled by the progress their hearts and minds had made this few last days. It put his mind at ease like nothing else and he wondered whether Arya felt the same.

"You talked so much about Minuial since the first time we met again", Arya's voice shook him out of his daze, he turned to look at her and found her intensive eyes already searching for his, "But you have never said something about yourself... never how you feel about your life there... Do you enjoy your tasks as a leader and teacher?"

"There is so much I could tell you now...", Eragon began but Arya's beautiful emerald eyes remained locked firmly with his and the real interest and worry in them and in her soft voice urged him on, "In general, yes, I do enjoy my tasks and I couldn't wish for a better home – the first real home I had since I left Carvahall. I – ", but he was cut off by the soft thuds of elven cloth boots on the forest floor – he could hear low voices coming nearer and wasn't sure whether he wanted to proceed with his tale in a stranger's company.

Arya seemed to understand his reluctance and nodded to her right where behind the Menoa Tree the forest's thicket ranged in silence and twilight. She wrapped a last festoon hastily around a small branch and then stepped around him, urging him to follow her with a quick wave of her hand.

Eragon followed her prompt as fast and as silently as he could and trailed Arya's shadow as she meandered around the vast trunk of the Menoa till she reached the opposite side which reached so deep into the forest that it was quite a stretch away from all paths and trails an elf might use. She vanished from his view for a second as she climbed nimbly over a large root but he followed her suit and nearly bumped into her as she stood waiting for him in between this and another root – a natural booth but for the open space due to the thinning of the roots in the direction that led away from the tree.

Eragon noticed that it was very silent around them.

Without waiting for a comment or reaction from his side Arya sat down on a knobbly extension of the trunk beside her, but Eragon hesitated.

"Won't they wonder where we are?", he jerked his head back into the direction they came from. Arya shook her head with a smile.

"No, I don't think so. It's none of their business where you or I decide to be... But you have been interrupted, don't you want to go on?"

He smiled at her obvious interest and finally made himself comfortable beside her while collecting his thoughts.

"As I already said, I can hardly complain – not now", he began and felt a bit self-conscious as well as overstrained – there were so many things, so many important, unimportant, tiny and numerous incidents, facts and details of his life that had shaped both him and his dragon and the people surrounding them... How can you wrap up the pains and joys of a century in a single evening's chat?

"It had been... hard, very hard at the beginning. I stepped into a foreign land, into complete wilderness, picked a place I thought I could like and tried to rebuilt what had once been the highest and most sophisticated society of Alagaësia... And even though I drew upon what I had seen in Doru Areaba I didn't want to make Minuial a copy of what was once and is no more. That would have felt like a bad omen to me. If I think back now...", he stopped speaking shortly, trying to wrap up what he wanted to tell her, "It didn't feel like that back then, but now I realize how very young I still was as I stood there in the mountains without a clue what to do next. Oh, I knew what to do, in theory it had all been so very easy, but when you stand in the middle of _nothing_, with _nothing_ in your hands and try to built up_ everything_, then you feel again like a child that tries to reach the sweets on a table which is higher than its fingertips can even touch."

He laughed softly at his words, but he could hear the chagrin in his voice.

"I tell you, the first wild dragons that hatched and the first students we had...", he shook his head in amusement, but Arya's gaze remained grave, "It had been a stretch for me. In the beginning I couldn't really see myself as a teacher – I was used to being a leader to that time, but being responsible for the well-being and life of your subjects is one thing, being responsible for the development, for the shaping of youths and children that were taken away from their homes and entrusted to only your judgment and advise – this is quite another thing."

"I know what you mean...", Arya nodded knowingly at him, "It is much you hold in your hands, isn't it?"

"Yes, that it is. And it took me a while until I felt at ease with this burden, but when I did it became more and more a pleasure to me. And suddenly, quite without knowing how I got there, I had found my place in the world. To see your students practically growing up at your side, to see their progress and how they exceed your expectations from time to time...", he smiled a genuine smile, "It's the most marvellous thing and now – today – I wouldn't want to be anywhere or anything else than what I am."

Silence followed his narrative and Eragon didn't try to break it but left Arya time to understand what she had been told.

"I am glad. As you left I knew you would have to shoulder a heavy burden, but judging what I have seen and heard of the Order over the years it seems you again succeeded", she inclined her head slightly to show her acknowledgement and Eragon accepted it likewise. He watched her closely during their silent exchange, but he couldn't decipher the lights and shadows that danced in her eyes. If he had missed a questions there then she didn't pose it.

"And you? What of you?", Eragon asked her in a quiet voice.

"Me?"

"Yes. How does being queen suit you?", his voice got even lower, "How are you?"

She watched him for a long moment before she answered him, studying his eyes and the movements inside in a way that made him feel warm and uncomfortable at the same time.

"I am fine with my lot, Eragon. I am proud to serve my people, especially now where they need to be led into a new age – and a better one I hope. More than once the experiences I made in the years I spent with the other races allowed me to see the crucial solution or vantage point in a dispute...", she allowed herself a small smile, "It might be vanity, but I am of the opinion that I did well all things considered... None of us and nothing else in this ever-changing world is perfect or everlasting or even good or bad in all its facets, but... I am fine. And I embrace the opportunity to fulfil my parent's inheritance."

Eragon listened to her intently, paying attention to every syllable, to every pronunciation, to every movement of the muscles in her face and even though he couldn't find anything that would unsettle him he was well aware of the weak points in her statements. But he thought it might be better to be careful about them. He was glad in a way, for her speaking still sounded a lot like the Arya he knew and that felt very comforting to him – and very saddening too.

"Somehow I didn't expect anything else, can you explain that to me?", and he really made an effort to give his voice a cheerful tone for this topic wasn't his most favourite one. But Arya laughed lightly at him and that was worth everything in his opinion.

"That is because you know me so well, I think."

"Do I?", his question was a rhetorical one, but he couldn't help to long for an answer to it. Experiencing her again so close – meaning both the distance of body and mind – made him wonder about what he knew of her before.

_Your name… Do you still go under the same name, Arya? I cannot see the truth in your eyes anymore even though I long so desperately for it. And how shall I see the fact that I cannot find the courage to ask you about it?_

He sighed and felt as though a distraction was needed.

„I always wondered, do you still visit the rest of Alagaësia from time to time? Or do you always stay here now as your mother did before?", he really had thought about that the last few days – worried for it even in a way. Flying only in the monotone landscape of the forest would be a cruel thing for a creature as free as a dragon…

"No", she shook her head, "Of course most of my time is spend here in Ellesméra, but Fírnen and I are quite frequently flying to the residences of the other potentates or wherever our presence is urgently needed."

"I am glad. A dragon shouldn't be a prisoner – and especially not in his own realm. Do you enjoy your journeys too? Or maybe you are tired of them by now, considering all the miles you have travelled in your life?"

"Sometimes it is tedious, when the ways are long and the weather is bad...", she averted her gaze for a second, "But I think it is doing us some good to see something else from time to time. It is... it was hard in the beginning, you know, I wasn't used to stay so long in one place, not even here. I was glad in my first years of ruling for every opportunity to break out of a quickly emerging daily routine to be honest. But it got easier with the years."

Eragon fought hard to keep a frown from appearing on his face. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to approve of this development as well.

_Watch out for what you are, Arya. You could lose it otherwise,_ he thought that to himself, not eager for now to break that deeply into her privacy. But maybe he could find a way around that obstacle.

"I am curious", he shared a small smile with her about the obviousness of that statement, "Have you also been bothered by your dragon? I could tell that Saphira tried hard, really hard to convince me otherwise, but I felt the yearning and regret whirling inside her for a longer time than I thought I would. She usually isn't one who regrets, that is usually my part", he allowed himself a smile, "I think I have been told a thousand times that "dragons do not mate for life" and "no, I am not pining!""

But Arya didn't return his smile and Eragon knew that her sympathy ran far deeper than a stranger would ever think.

"Yes, Fírnen had been down as well. It's sad that they had to endure such hardship, but I embrace what they share nonetheless, even if they would have never seen each other again."

"Yes. I think the experience is worth the pain, isn't it?"

Eragon voice assumed a certain airiness in the middle of the sentence, but he never took his gaze off of Arya's whose eyes were shining with curiosity and uncertainty – and another emotion that was hard to place. Was it dissatisfaction that glimmered in her deep emerald orbs? He wasn't sure. He might be dead wrong. And he might as well be absolutely right.

"Eragon... You never answered me really...", she spoke very clearly now, pronouncing every syllable with care, "How are you getting along?"

His shoulders tensed involuntary as he caught the meaning behind her words. He understood the reason for her curiosity, but he didn't feel ready to talk to her about this yet.

"I did answer this, didn't I?", he retorted trying to get off lightly.

"Maybe... If you are sure then I will accept your answer of course."

Eragon thought she looked sad, but her gaze drifted aside before he could be sure about it.

"I have told you, Arya, I have gone my way. I met tears and pain walking along this road, but joy as well. There is nothing more you can expect from life. I am fortunate enough to be fine with what I am - and with what I was. Do not worry."

A long silence followed his words, but Eragon knew it wasn't an uncomfortable one. For him it felt like taking a deep breath after holding it for a very long time and Arya's eyes seemed peaceful again, her concerns eased. And minutes became eternities.

"I wondered..."

Eragon heard her high musical voice through the silence, a silence that strange to say wasn't broken by the words she spoke. Their melody unified with the melody of the forest like a river flowing into the ocean. She was a part of it – no, they were one. And Eragon wasn't sure whether he fitted into that pattern any more.

"Eragon? Are you still with me?"

A bit startled he focused quickly, blinking once before meeting Arya's wide open eyes and then smiled ruefully.

"I am sorry, my thoughts were led astray. Forgive me, I was impolite."

But she didn't seem irritated at all – on the contrary, her lips formed a smile wider than anything else he had elicited from her before.

"Silly...", she said with an almost tender voice and chuckled, surprising him, "What I wanted to say... What is with your family? Is Murtagh still with you?"

Eragon sobered quickly as he heard her mentioning his brother. Not because of Murtagh himself, no, the times he had hold a grudge with his half-brother were long gone. But still family never seemed to be an easy topic for him be it now or back then.

"Yes, he is staying with us after all – at least for now. Actually I am astonished that he stayed that long; as he arrived in Minuial he appeared to feel uncomfortable with all the others around and that didn't change in the least for the first few months. I cannot say that I was surprised by that, knowing him and the entire situation, but my worries were quenched for it got better over time and now he serves as a teacher in weaponry. He never wanted a leading position beyond that even though he would be perfectly well entitled for it as the oldest Rider besides me", Eragon shrugged, "He is getting along quite well now and I am glad for it, but I am afraid that he will never heal completely."

"I cannot say I am surprised", Arya admitted but looked troubled, "We all carry old and deep wounds with us. I trust there are no serious conflicts among you however? That would be troubling in deed..."

But Eragon shook his head.

"No, there are no conflicts, rest assured, I won't let it come that far. Some of the dwarves were a bit... cool with him in the beginning, they have never been easy to forget crimes of the past and especially not the death of their king. But I made clear that Murtagh, as one of our elders so to say, is to be given a decent respect. There has never been any trouble beyond that."

"I am glad. Some trouble was to expected though, I think", she took a deep breath, "Problems of old wherever you look..."

"Yes... And what about you?"

His question took her by surprise. He could tell by the way her eyes widened just a tiny little bit even though she tried to hide it.

"What do you mean?"

"Because of my quite sudden departure we have never talked much about it... and that had troubled me – still troubles me from time to time", his gaze turned very soft, "After the battle in Urû'baen you have been gone so quickly, but now I feel as though it was me who left you behind so soon after your loss... Are you still troubled a lot by your mother's death?"

She had listened to him with comprehension shining quickly in her eyes – eyes that were sad and yet calm in their own way. She approved of his concern with the smallest of smiles.

"It was a shock for me of course in the beginning, and hard to deal with. But whether it still troubles me?", she tilted her head aside, her eyes drifting into the undefined darkness beyond the glade, "Mostly not. It is a long time ago by now and I was already used to live without her before… Even though that was not the same of course", she shrugged her shoulders, her smile fading, "It comes and goes. I am reminded of her from time to time and then it might hurt - other times it doesn't hurt me at all anymore… Isn't it always like that with the wounds of the past?"

Her gaze drifted slowly to the ground. To Eragon's intense dismay she suddenly seemed distressed.

"I am sorry, I didn't want to sadden you now…"

Arya looked up again at his low voice and the way he leaned just an inch closer to her, inclining his head in utter regret. Eragon was relieved as the curious smile appeared again on her features, her eyes pleasantly calm again.

"Don't worry", she spoke with a voice just as low, "You did not."

Eragon smiled back at her, watching her face and the shadows that danced on it in the fading light of the advanced evening. She turned away again from his intense study of hers but the way she avoided his gaze told him it wasn't out of disapproval. Collecting all his courage through this realization he lifted his arm slowly from his side to lay a hand on her shoulder with the gentlest of touches. Nonetheless he felt her twitch underneath his fingers. He nearly lost his courage then, but a moment later he was glad he stayed adamant. For as she met his eyes they were widened in surprise, but she made no move to remove his hand or to lean away from him. The warmth of her skin that was permeating her clothes was comforting and the muscles stayed relaxed under his touch, their initial tremor long forgotten.

"I know how it feels... Often I think I could leave this all behind if I could just talk to them, just once", Eragon smiled at the imagination, "I would love to know what my father would think about all what had happened. I never came to speak to him to anything for that matter. How pleasant it would be, how much he would cheer at hearing about our victory and about all the dragons and Riders that are out there again..."

Eragon saw Arya nodding beside him, apparently agreeing to him. He thought he knew what she was thinking about.

"What your mother would say if she knew you were a Rider..."

"Yes", her voice was airy, "I thought about that a lot..."

Eragon smiled widely at her, he could imagine the turmoil within her, but he was so glad for her seemingly ameliorating path in this live that he just couldn't help it.

"She would be so proud of you, don't you think so? Yes, she had to", he gave her shoulder the gentlest of squeezes with the hand that still rested on it, "And don't get me wrong if I say that I am also more than proud to have you with us. Are you fine with yourself too?" Then he removed his hand.

Arya remained utterly still - both her body and her gaze, but Eragon could see emotion in the swirling emerald irises. But he wasn't sure what to make out of it. In this moment she was very silent.

"I found my peace. That is everything that matters."

Eragon couldn't fight her statement, he knew she was right there, but he couldn't help to notice that she averted her gaze again and now it didn't feel that pleasant anymore. There was meaning behind her words, he was sure of it, but he couldn't decipher what it was that was plaguing her without further explanation from her. And she gave him the feeling that he shouldn't try to ask her now. His heart got a bit heavier again if only slightly and he looked up then, searching for guidance in the skies where the stars were now shining brightly through the canopy of the dark pines. He stood up to watch them more closely and noticed his friend following his movements.

"It is nice to see them again", he told her without looking at her. When she didn't answer he just spoke on, "The stars. The stars above Alagaësia."

"They are none of them to be seen in Minuial?"

Eragon shook his head and lowered his gaze back to Arya's again which had cleared by now, her eyes again lively, awake and curious.

"I have never seen other stars than these in my life", with her confession a slight sound of longing was swinging in her otherwise untainted voice, "Are they just as beautiful in Minuial?"

Eragon laughed slightly at that.

"Yes, they are. Maybe I can show them to you some time..."

But only silence greeted his offer. He hadn't expected more, but it still made him wish she would be eager enough, longing enough to come visiting him once. Or to come with him now, immediately. He sighed.

"Arya", he took a step towards her after speaking her name ever so softly. She was very close now; he could see every single one of her deep black eyelashes.

"I am very glad to be here again. To be with you again", he felt his heart beating heavily inside his chest and the urge to make her understand, to make her _see _surged through him regardless of the consequences. He looked down for a second to find her hand and then covered the back of it just lightly with his own palm, "I just wanted you to know that I do not regret anything. Most of my time here is gone already and I don't know when I will see you again..."

He felt a tremor running through her arm and the hand that he was touching. As he looked up for a second he saw that her eyes were resting on their touching hands just as his had been. Giving in to the beauty of this moment he wrapped his fingers gently around hers.

He had to close his eyes for a second as he felt her returning his gesture reluctantly.

_Nothing could be like this. Nothing had ever been like this._

The thoughts jumped through Eragon's mind without his intention or approval, but he knew they were true as the experience of the warmth and softness of her skin made his own fingertips tingle.

They remained standing there side by side, in the increasing darkness of Du Weldenvarden, in the shade of the Menoa Tree, with hands intertwined firmly enough to feel the thumb of each other's pulse through their touch while their eyes were resting on the joined fingers.

Their worlds seemed to swirls around each other and intertwine in their own graceful dance. And suddenly a closeness and intimacy vibrated around them in a gentle melody that was only theirs.

Eragon revelled in the change in the air and raised his eyes only to meet Arya's already searching for his. He was astonished by the vast amount of questions he found within them, but he was quite sure that his own looked the same.

He smiled. It was nice. Being the same. He squeezed her fingers gently.

"Come on. Come with me. It is getting late."

She seemed taken aback for the smallest fraction of a second and blinked once in perplexity before she agreed with him, giving him a small nod.

Eragon turned slowly and began a slow, even devotional walk back into the lights where the other elves were waiting for them. Not a single word was spoken during their last minutes of togetherness, but the sound of the other's breath at their side, the lasting touch of their entangled digits and the warmth that was emanated by it created a spirit that was unable to be captured with words anyway.

And it lasted until the very last moment before they stepped into the cone of light when Arya let go of his hand with a last soft pressure of her fingers.

* * *

><p>Hi, sorry I took so long, I hope you can forgive me ;) Unfortunately this might happen more frequently in the coming months, season is starting again and I will have tournaments with my horse nearly every weekend... But I will do my best, I promise! ;)<p>

Another thing that is heavy on my mind – and to answer the question of Axel19 – OF COURSE Eragon and Arya will end up together, I am sorry if I gave the wrong impression... I know I am only very slowly deepening their relation, inching forward so to say, but I think that is the right way to do it (this chapter is a good example for this again I know...). But I think love doesn't come from scrap and they just HAVE to talk about things like this, how else are they to get closer? The fastest, easiest way usually isn't the right one to take... And believe me, I know this is a tad tedious now, I am a bit tired of this part of the story too and I would also LOVE to precede to the... lovelier scenes...

We will make another progress with the next chap, the Agaetí Blödhren, then I want to write a short kind of epilogue to this part of the story and with it the conclusion of Eragon's time in Ellesméra (for now) and then we will precede to greater things in Minuial ;)

I just can hope and plead for your patience (you know that this is an important virtue! Or haven't you listened to Oromis at all? *smile*). Just stay tuned, I am in a way still at the beginning of this story and I have the MOST beautiful scenes for them in my mind (and partly already in keywords on my pc), just give them (and me) some time, we are still not over the things CP did to us (ok, this was a bit harsh, but true somehow...)

I hope you liked this chap though, AryaNuanen


	10. Chapter 9  The Blood Oath Celebration

The next two days went by faster than Eragon thought possible and so the evening of the Agaetí Blödhren came as he knew it had to. He felt anticipation as well as apprehension whenever he thought about the coming days, both because of the ceremony and the celebrations that would last several days.

For then his free days in Ellesméra would be over.

"_Eragon, some concentration...", _Saphira chided him, "_People are watching you. And the time has come, finally..."_

And indeed Arya was already on her way towards the glowing Menoa Tree and the gathered crowd of elves within the glade parted respectfully to let her though. She wore a sleeveless tunic of deep crimson and black with silver garnishments and along with the ruler's sceptre in her hand she looked more regal than any creature Eragon had ever met. Together with Saphira he stood in first line and watched her steady ascent towards the tree.

"_Yes. Here we are again, representing the Riders, just as a hundred years ago... On the very same day, the very same place..."_

"_Yes."_

"_This is what we are here for..."_

"_Well, you could argue about _that!"

Eragon quickly stifled the laugh that rose up his throat at Saphira's witty remark for at this exact moment complete silence spread over the crowd.

Arya had by now stepped nimbly onto a protruding root of the tree and now turned towards her expectant people with a look both severe and devotional on her face. With exaggeration she raised her arm high in the air and conjured a bright emerald werelight that floated gently upon her upraised palm. The elves waited with bated breaths while she moved it towards a sink in the tree where it remained hovering and shining like a small green sun even after Arya had removed her hand.

And an instant later the glade was filled with the cheers of the elves and the low pitter-patter of their clothed feet on the mossy forest ground.

Eragon felt a smile spreading across his face, feeling his own as well as Saphira's anticipation who had already jumped onto her feet, rustling her wings in excitement.

_It has begun._

* * *

><p>For Eragon the first day went by in whirl of merriment and the hours rushed past his awareness like leaves in an autumn storm. Most of his time was spent at a large table where he ate and drank and made merry with his companions – elves both of higher and lower ranks as he found out during their talk – even though he was actually mostly listening.<p>

The melodious words and songs that wafted gently through the forest were intriguing him and he wasn't able to tell whether this was due to the beauty of the elvish voices or to the magic that was woven through every note and tone. More and more he tumbled into a pleasant haze that eased his tension and worries and replaced them with thoughts of beauty and love and a deep felicity. In contrast to the last time he had experienced this magic inflicted upon him he was now aware of it, of how it altered his mood and mind, not as it had been before, when he was still fully human – simply overwhelming and confusing.

So still fully aware of his surroundings he now leaned back in his cushioned chair and enjoyed his time. The only thing that tarnished this perfection was his regret of not being with the one whose presence he desired the most – for he wasn't about to see Arya until late in the evening.

Some hours after sunset Eragon was dragged away from the table by his companions to a small clearing where he found her standing in a lose circle with what seemed to be half the population of Ellesméra. He stopped aside one of the torches that illuminated their surroundings and followed the other's suit who were watching the women and men that stepped one after the other into the middle if the clearing - the inhabitants of Ellesméra who presented their gifts to their brethren.

Eragon watched the spectacle for a long time, he was impressed by the inventive spirit the elves demonstrated with every piece of art, jewellery, poetry or tool they presented. Saphira had joined his side in the meantime and Fírnen who laid aside Arya gave a low humming noise to great her. This again caught Arya's attention and she in turn greeted her most significant guests with a light dip of her head and the faintest of smiles. Before Eragon could do more than smile in return however the elves applauded the last demonstrator and it was one of Arya's lords that begged the Queen now to pleasure them with the gift from her hands and mind.

"And I will gladly do so", she said and clasped her hands together, "Yet I think it would be terribly impolite if I wouldn't grant my guests preference. So maybe Saphira Bjartskular and Master Eragon would like to present their works first?"

Her gaze rested upon the addressed pair and Eragon was quite sure that he was the only one who could see the playfulness and curiosity in Arya's eyes. Nodding to his right he urged his dragon to go first since she hold a gift from all of them.

The crowed went silent once more when Saphira stepped into the middle of the circle and perched herself regally onto her hind legs. In her mouth she carried what seemed to be a large roll of parchment attached to a stick of wood.

"_What I will present to you is a gift not only from me but from all the dragons of my home – both wild and bounded ones - who granted me the honour to act in their representation", _she spoke with her mind so that all people present could hear her. Then she lifted her head and carefully let the parchment unfurl itself, anxious not to harm the artwork inside with her razor-like fangs.

Gasps of wonder and praise could be heard among the crowd as Saphira proudly walked in a circle with her head held high so that everyone could see.

On the inside of the parchment the emblem of the Dragon Riders was emblazoned – the side view of the white dragon upon half dark blue, half red and yellow ground, representing the sunset at the seaside. What made the picture so magnificent though was that it was a mosaic – a mosaic made of dozens, maybe hundreds of shimmering dragon scales of every size and nuance. The jewel-like objects reflected the golden light of the torches and let the picture shine only brighter.

Followed by exclamations of admiration Saphira ended her circuit in front of Arya and Fírnen and lowered her head, but only slightly. Fírnen understood her intention and accepted the offered gift from her.

"We are more than thankful for your and your brethren's present and we gladly accept it", Arya answered for him, "It is a worthy piece of art and I think we all would be delighted if the other dragons were informed of our admiration."

"_Of course", _Saphira answered to Arya and the crowd, "_I will see to it that they learn of your gratitude."_

Arya nodded. "I am glad to hear that. We will find a place in our halls for your masterpiece where everyone will be able to enjoy it, Bjartskular."

Saphira only answered with a satisfied snort and then returned to Eragon's side who had fetched his own piece of work in the meantime. And anticipation again dictated the atmosphere in the clearing when the Master of the Riders stepped forward, carrying what seemed to be a blanketed, rectangular tablet with him.

"As my dragon did before", he began as he came to a halt in the middle of the circle, "I also decided to let our home in the East be the topic of my art – for what else could ever be as significant for this new age and for all the races of Alagaësia but the resurrection of the Dragons?"

And with that he carefully freed the canvas of its cover and revealed a chalk drawing of the most interesting kind. It was colourful and lively, yet lacked the clearness a fairth would show. Instead the artist had decided to work with hints and blurred edges and the contrast between pastel and intensive colours. In the same manner the motive – or rather motives – smoothly flowed into one another, showing the facade of a lone city at the foot of high mountains and besides it, inserted like a gap in space, a scene showing several dragons standing proudly at the edge of a cliff. And above that all a bright eclipse was floating, like starlight in the darkest sky and surrounded by multicoloured, sparkling dots.

It appeared like a dream where reality wavered and bent, showing Eragon's world underneath the symbol of one of his most significant experiences in life.

For the world was round - and that made them all one.

The elves praised the picture, most of them fascinated and curious about the landscape and also the deeper sense behind it. Eragon accepted their admiration with an elegant bow, but remained waiting. The Queen hadn't voiced her opinion yet, but watched him with concentration. She seemed lost in thought.

"I think I speak for all of us if I say that I am more than impressed by your hand's work."

"Your praise means much to me, Queen Arya", and he emphasized his words with yet another curt bow, while trying to find a way to tell her what he wanted to before she would be swept away by the caprices of the celebration again. He decided for the easiest one.

"_Saphira? Could you ask Fírnen to deliver a message for me? Let him tell Arya to wait for me. I want to show her something..."_

The Dragonlady gave the smallest of snorts, but delivered the message. Eragon now stood beside her again and waited like all the others for Arya to show her gift now. He watched her closely as she still remained silent and the look in her eyes convinced him that Fírnen had told her already.

She looked straight into his eyes with the most questioning gaze in her own. Eragon smiled and hoped she would understand.

_You will see soon enough, my Queen..._

He felt better than he had in a very long time.

* * *

><p>And so the first night of the festival went by and Eragon still hadn't found a chance to talk to Arya. She and Fírnen had recited their texts after Eragon's presentation – for they both had decided to write a poem for the celebration – and performed them under the general appreciation of all people present. Together the elves decided to take a break then because dawn was near upon them and the time was ripe for a substantial breakfast.<p>

Thus Eragon still hadn't caught Arya on her own, but he was glad to be able to enjoy the feast with her as he sat directly aside her. They exchanged many words during that time, though nothing of importance. Nevertheless their talk turned out to be most amazing for Eragon - he was amused and delighted to watch the expectant, curious glimmer in Arya's emerald eyes and felt his own anticipation rising.

It took another two hours for the loose society to dissolve. After most were sated or got tired of the slowing conversation at the table the elves left partly alone, partly in small groups to see after the ongoings of the celebration around them or some to finally present their gifts.

As he watched the circle around them thinning Eragon turned to Arya to seize his chance, only to find her already searching for his gaze. She leaned halfway towards him.

"I was told you want to talk to me?", she asked him with a low voice, watching him very closely. Eragon smiled.

"Well, not so much to talk, but rather to show you something..."

His smile broadened as she raised her eyebrows and jerked his head to his right where he knew a small bench was standing just a few dozen yards along the edge of the forest. Arya nodded and together they rose to their feet, both trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. Neither of them wanted to sow half-baked rumours. Arya had already made her first step towards their destination yet halted in wonder as Eragon apparently didn't follow her. Again she raised an eyebrow at him and Eragon answered her with an apologetic look upon his face.

"Do you think you could be so generous as to wait for me there? It will take just a second..."

"Of course", she seemed slightly surprised, but her lips twitched in a playful way, "But don't let me wait too long, Shadeslayer."

* * *

><p>And of course he didn't.<p>

Eragon hurried and so he was on his way back to Arya within the next two minutes, now carrying a clothed package in his arms. He meandered through the celebrating elves on his way towards the fringe of the clearing, all the while refusing invitations of drinking and feasting in the hopefully politest way possible. But it didn't take much longer till he saw her and his footsteps only picked up pace as she too turned her head to watch his swift approach. With delight and a joyful anticipation swelling inside his chest he saw her eyeing the cylindrical object in his arms. Yet there was also nervousness – he hoped so very much that she would like it.

He sat down beside her on the bench where she was already sitting in a casual way. Eragon was glad for what he saw, because her body language and face showed an ease that he sometimes missed about her. The magic that pulsed through the forest seemed to have an effect on her too. She raised her eyes from the package in his hands to meet his and lifted one corner of her mouth.

"So, what is it you want to show me?"

Her oiled lips glistened in the morning's twilight. Eragon felt a lazy smile creeping on his face.

"Shortly after accepting your invitation I began to think about a gift for the Agaetí Blödhren and then the thought came to my mind that it would only be proper if I would prepare a gift for my host too", his smile widened, "I thought long about what I should bring to you and I am still not sure whether I made the right decision, but know that I tried to do so at least, and very much so too."

He then took the cloth away and revealed a sparkling glassphere. Arya took the object carefully out of his offering hands and eyed it with admiration obvious on her face. After mere seconds of scrutiny she lifted the upper globe and sat it gently aside to look more closely at what was beneath it.

With what Eragon thought to be close to tenderness she took the delicate musical clock into her hands and lifted it to her face.

He had made it out of the core of the great nuts that grew at some places in Du fells ráva. They were hard as wood, smooth like marble and coloured like cream. The basement and roof were decorated with elegantly curved lines and the carrousel was refined with bands of white gold. He had kept it lightly with colours, the figurines and ornaments were coloured beautifully and rich in detail even though Eragon had used only mild pastel shades.

As Arya wound up the wrench the creatures in the middle began to dance to a soothing melody played with the clearest of tones. There were white horses that proudly slanted their necks – for he knew Arya had a certain love for horses – and dragons of course. There were four of them: One gold, one green, and two blue ones – light and dark blue. The dragons that had shaped both their lives.

Arya watched and listened for a minute longer, seemingly engrossed with the delicate object, yet her face was hard to read and Eragon waited with every passing second more excitedly for her judgement.

When she finally turned her face to him he saw that her eyes were very bright.

"And you have made this all on your own?", she seemed to be mesmerized by the thought, what on the other hand made Eragon chuckle.

"Yes, I did. Or do you think I would present you with someone else's creation?"

"No, you would not...", she shook her head and looked back towards the still dancing creatures, "And you made it just for me?"

"Yes. Of course."

She turned again. And this time she smiled. And very gently so, just as her voice was.

"Thank you. Really."

"Does that mean you like it?"

"But of course I do, how could anyone not? It is very, very beautiful. I am proud that you deem me worthy for such a gift made from your very own hands. You honour me."

He waved his hand, but smiled.

"I am glad that you find pleasure in it – that is all that I had wished for."

"But you shamed me, too."

Now he was taken aback. She frowned deeply and even though Eragon was sure at second gaze that she was joking, he still wondered.

"How would I have done that, your Majesty?"

The frown deepened. And this time she seemed serious.

"Don't call me that, not when we meet privately at least."

"I am sorry, I didn't mean it seriously. Why does it disturb you that much?"

"There are so many people that only speak to me with this title, so many for whom I am just their queen and nothing else", there was suddenly a trace of sadness in her eyes, "I don't want... I wouldn't be able to stand it if you were one of them too."

She set her present down on her thighs, holding it still with one hand, then lifted the other to gently, but without hesitance laid her palm onto Eragon's cheek. He shuddered once by the sudden touch and inhaled sharply before he could compose himself. Her fingers only rested lightly on his skin, but they were very warm.

"You are so much more to me than any of them, Eragon. Iet friciai.

He held her gaze for a long minute, enjoying the feeling of her skin against his and drowning in the emerald depths that were her beautiful eyes.

_The door to the soul..._

When she lowered her hand again he quickly caught it with his own and continued to hold her small hand within the strong confines of his own. Eragon deemed himself a tad bold – though this might still be an old habit – but he was glad that she never tried to pull her hand away, nor did he find any sign of alarm in her eyes or on her face. It were tiny things like this that sometimes made him very happy.

Before he could utter a word however, Arya spoke again.

"You sidetracked me though", she said blinking, "I said you shamed me – because obviously I haven't thought about something for you."

Eragon chuckled at that and squeezed her hand slightly.

"You don't have to give me anything, Arya. This is no competition. Don't stress yourself."

"Hm", she seemed thoughtful, "I guess I have still one or two days left to think about something..."

"Arya...", Eragon sighed and shook his head, but in good humour. He gave her hand another small squeeze, "You already give me so much with wanting me here with you again."

Eragon watched her very closely and he thought he saw her eyes widening for the tiniest fraction. Only silence greeted his words, but it wasn't an uncomfortable one and her gaze never left his and never was anything else but gentle.

When the moment was over Arya carefully freed her hand to pick up her present again. She hold it in her lap, examining it closely again and softly touched the tiny figures.

"I should bring it into safety till the celebration is over", she spoke without looking up, "Do you want to come along?"

Eragon accepted her offer and soon they rose together and made their way back through the crowd. Yet again they walked in silence - and Arya never took her eyes off the object underneath the glassphere that rested gently in her hands.

They found their dragons laying abreast in the very proximity of the swaying Menoa Tree where they listened to a band and watched the elves that danced to the lively compositions.

"They seem to enjoy themselves", Eragon laughed slightly as he watched Saphira and Fírnen weighing and humming along with the beat of the music.

"Obviously", Arya seemed amused too.

Eragon stopped respectfully as Arya approached Fírnen and talked to him. The emerald dragon listened carefully to his Rider, but highly visible for Eragon, he flashed him a piercing glance while Arya rested her present, now rewrapped in cloth, at his side to let him guard it for a while.

"_You really thought she wouldn't like it?", _he was surprised as the green dragon contacted him.

"_I couldn't be sure, I guess..."_

"_Eragon", _Fírnen laughed teasingly in his mind, "_After all_ _Arya is just a woman too."_

Eragon grinned in response and chuckled even as Fírnen winked at him behind his Rider's back. But he turned away before Arya could recognize the silent exchange and by intuition looked up to the skies. The second day of the Agaetí Blödhren was halfway over already.

"_Eragon?"_

"_Hm?"_

"_You are fine?", _he was surprised by Saphira's worry.

"_Of course. Just thinking. As though you wouldn't know..."_

"_Hmpf. You are being cheeky. What has bitten you?"_

"_I am fine. It's just... another day will be over soon."_

She remained silent for a moment and left Eragon listening to her emotions.

"_I know. It's not easy on me too. But, please Eragon, you are far too wise to let dark forebodings occupy your mind. Life in the present and don't worry about what is to come. You should enjoy your time here – especially because it is limited. You know I speak the truth..."_

He sighed.

"_Yes, I do."_

"_Then don't stand around here like a lost sheep! There is someone waiting for you..."_

On that he looked around, for Arya of course, and found her standing a metre aside him and waiting patiently for his talk with Saphira to be over. But his dragon wasn't done with him after all.

"_You should really make the best of your time here... Don't you think the music is wonderful? I am sure Arya thinks so too..."_

Eragon frowned as he read in her mind what she thought behind these words and was both scared and exhilarated at what he found there. He turned back to Arya again and saw her smiling at whatever look he had on his face. His gaze flickered once to the dancing pairs and he made his decision then, encouraged by her former behaviour and the haze that still obscured his mind. And just as he wanted to open his mouth he heard Arya's voice speaking to him again.

"It's well after noon and we've been talking quite some time... Maybe you would like some refreshment –"

By she fell silent as Eragon bowed slightly and offered her his hand. The silver Gedwey ignasia shimmered on his upraised palm.

"My Lady, may I have the pleasure of the next dance?"

Arya blinked once after Eragon had voiced his demand but remained utterly motionless and her eyes just as silent. Eragon waited patiently for her answer and stayed in his bent over position while he watched the flickers dancing through her eyes. He was surprised to see Fírnen stretch his long neck towards her after yet another couple of seconds and give her a gentle shove with his snout.

But it was then that Arya reached for him, a bit reluctantly maybe, and laid her hand gently into his. There was a smile on her face now.

Eragon curled his fingers at the feel of the warmth of her skin upon his own. He loosely enveloped her slender digits as he straightened up again. But though she appeared to have relaxed again, he felt unsure now after seeing her hesitation and felt a slight frown crease his brow.

"Arya... If you feel uncomfortable with it – "

"No", she interrupted his words resolutely, "I was just... surprised. It was...", but she seemingly wasn't able to finish her sentence and just shook her head with yet another smile.

"Alright... Then – come on."

And Eragon turned halfway away from her and led her hand in hand onto the dancefloor.

He halted when they were surrounded by other dancing pairs and turned to face her again, feeling the anticipation rising within him. Though nothing of this could be seen on his face his pulse was beating away at least at thrice the usual pace. And as he met Arya's expectant gaze he thought he could see a glimmer of agitation in her eyes as well.

Eragon was oblivious to their surroundings – he was unaware of the curious eyes around them, he couldn't feel the ground beneath his feet, nor the breeze of cool air on his arms. In this moment nothing existed but Arya and himself and the soft tune that wavered around and through them as he very carefully stepped closer to her and laid his arm around her waist.

The music had slowed down to a comfortable rhythm by then and Eragon and Arya began to gracefully move together with the beat. Many of the elves were taken aback by what they saw, others seemingly were neither surprised nor interested at all and some even were looking at them as though they were a true sight to behold.

For some very long minutes they danced in pleasant silence and through all this time Eragon just couldn't make himself avert his gaze from Arya's bright eyes. He got lost in the sparkling speckles of her irises. The mosaic of light and dark green reminded him of light falling through a sunlit canopy of leaves.

Surprisingly enough Arya never turned away either.

With their eyes attached to each other and their hands touching the situation suddenly turned out to feel far more intimate than Eragon had planned it to be. And to his astonishment and slight amusement Eragon noticed that he didn't feel uncomfortable at all – excited, yes, but not uncomfortable. He knew that the spells and magic of this night were running thickly through his veins like ale, making him feel more at ease with her closeness and his worries than he maybe should. He could only guess that it was the same for Arya.

The first words that were spoken between them again came from her mouth, but her lilting voice met merely deaf ears. Eragon startled as he realized that she had spoken and quickly made his dazzled mind focus.

"Forgive me", he whispered slightly apprehensively, "Could you – "

But he was silenced as he witnessed a wide smile spread across Arya's face that even made the corner's of her eyes crinkle in a sightly way. He was even more amazed when Arya chuckled at his foolishness. Eragon discovered that this night was full of magic.

"Now again...", Arya spoke on after she had concentrated again, "I just wanted to know, did you enjoy your time here?"

The answer to this question came easily to his mind and he was more than pleased by Arya's worry, but it also stroke him with sadness for she spoke as though he was already leaving.

"Of course I did, Arya. I mean, it had cost me quite an effort to come here, to face you – to face my past again. I have been... quite scared of it at first to be honest."

"I understand you very well", her voice was very soft, "What convinced you otherwise though?"

He smiled.

"I have told you already: I have been a fool, a coward even, for far too long. I really couldn't miss this opportunity to see you again... Who knows when the next chance would have come? If I had given in to my fears - maybe never again..."

Involuntary his hand tightened the tiniest bit around her waist. But she apparently didn't mind.

"So you didn't expect to come back to Alagaësia? Never again?"

Eragon remained silent for a while and for the first time since they started floating across the soft ground of the forest he looked away from Arya's face, his eyes drifting over her shoulder to stare into the distance. He tried to think very hard and very fast, yet he felt the hindrance the magic had inflicted upon him preventing him from coming to a conclusion. In the end he just did what felt right and natural to him – to be honest with her.

"I have never told you... I was quite sure that I would never come back to Alagaësia again because someone once foretold me so... And she had never been wrong with her predictions."

Arya's brow creased now and she only very slightly lost the rhythm of her feet.

"What do you mean? You have never said so much as a word about something like that", a subliminal anger now resonated within her voice, "Who said something like this to you and when? And why do you attach so much importance to someone else's words?"

Eragon gulped once. He started to regret what he had gotten himself into; this was not the easy talk he wanted to share with her in these magical nights...

But, unable to find an easy way out, he told her about his first time in Teirm and how he had met Angela and Solembum in her herbage shop.

"And then she asked me whether I wanted to know my fortune... And I agreed", he made a pause, "She threw a dragon's knucklebones for me and, among other things, she told me that I would once leave Alagaësia and never return."

He ended his tale with that and watched her face very closely for her reaction. The frown had never left her face and her eyes were very thoughtful. It was strange how double sided their present situation felt to Eragon – there they were, swaying gracefully together above the ground with harmony marking every movement and their hands touching the other's so gently; Eragon was especially aware of the arm that felt so nice being wrapped around her waist with his hand on her back and of her own hand that rested ever so slightly on his shoulder.

Yet on the other hand there was this tension again, the unsureness and the serious talk they carried. He wasn't pleased to see her frown deepening till a crinkle appeared between her eyebrows.

"But you are here...", there was wonder in her voice, "You _did_ come back... So Angela was wrong with that after all, wasn't she?"

"I am not sure", Eragon grimaced, "I always found it hard to grasp the exact meaning of her words – and that didn't change with the years that passed by", he said with a short chuckle, "There is no particular point of time given in her prophecy. Who knows? Maybe I will come back again even more often from now on – then I could still leave one day and never return. Maybe we interpret the term "return" in a wrong way, maybe it only means that I will never come back to Alagaësia again as my home, that I will never again _live_ here again. Maybe even me fate has changed since the day she had questioned the bones for me and the prophecy is no longer true for me anymore. Maybe it is... out of date, so to say."

The topic he had tried to evade so hard stroke him with full force as he said that. To think like this was painful; there are things that he never wished to end, even if it might be better for him like that. He sighed and then shook his head to chase away the gloomy thoughts.

"I thought about the prophecy as Saphira and I reached the Edda River on our way to you", he chuckled, "I halfway expected Saphira to ran into an invisible wall as we flew across it. I believed so much in what she had said, I just couldn't make myself believe that Angela could be wrong. Nearly everything else came true."

"What else did she tell you?", there was curiosity obvious in her voice, just as obvious as her reluctance at posing this question. Even though they were close he knew she would be careful with prying into his personal affairs.

"Many things. Some more concrete than others and less important so. That a member of my family would betray me...", he snorted, "It had disturbed me a lot, to that time I thought it meant Roran for I didn't know about Murtagh back then..."

He thought for a moment.

"She told me that I had a myriad of possible ways in front of me and that I am fortunate to be able to choose my own fate... She told me that large battles would await me, that the forces of Alagaësia would fight in my favour... And that someone close to me would die soon – she meant Brom – and another mischief that would await me on a vast journey", he shrugged his shoulders, "I never found out what that means or whether it had already happened... Hmn."

He remained silent after that with his eyes drifting into distance again. Silent and stuck in two minds...

"Eragon? Is there anything else?"

His eyes flashed back to hers again and found them infiltrating his own with force. He couldn't help but grin. She knew him much too good. He took a deep breath.

"Nothing... nothing of importance", he snorted as she lifted one eyebrow, "No, not anymore... I will tell you one day."

Suddenly he realized that they weren't moving anymore. Yet Arya's gaze didn't waver.

"You are looking worried. I don't want to... worm something out of you that is clearly a matter only of yours, but if there is a burden you want to share...", she trailed off.

They stood there for some very long seconds, still locked together as they were while dancing and absorbed the other's gaze, absolutely unaware of the increasing number of eyes that rested upon their backs.

Eragon was glad for her concern and he appreciated her try to help him very much. He had started to realize that a certain warmth spread inside him again this last days whenever he was at her side. He could_ feel_ her again. It was as though his body, heart and mind finally started to remember her. To remember her the way she really was, to remember what she once was to him.

"I am fine", he said and lifted their still entangled hands, his left and her right one, and brushed the back of his hand very gently over her slanted cheek bone, "We have spent quite some time here now... I interrupted you before. Do you want to go and drink something now? Maybe a glass of good wine?"

Arya seemed confused by the sudden change of subject, but Eragon knew that she wouldn't be swayed this easily. He let go off her and she took her hand from his shoulder, yet their hands remained intertwined when they left the area around the band to look for some refreshment.

"Eragon..."

He laughed as he heard her voice ringing in a questioning way beside him just as he had expected it to.

"Do you promise to tell me?"

He turned his head aside to meet her gaze. Her eyes were very bright and very insistent. When he was sure of anything in this world, then that Arya was far from being dull or slow. He was sure she had already guessed, at least partly, what he was holding back.

"Yes. I promise I will tell you one day."

The ancient language sealed his fate.

* * *

><p>And then the last night of the Blood Oath Celebration came.<p>

The day had rushed past Eragon in a whirl of merriment. As promised he had stopped with Arya at a table aside the buffet after their dancing where they had spent another hour together with talking, drinking and laughing. Unfortunately he had been denied her presence shortly after. As Queen she was expected to give her attention to her people too and thus had left him to watch after the ongoings of the celebration and grant her subjects their share of her time.

Eragon then had decided to follow her suit and mingled with the crowd again to see more of the elves' fantastic works and gifts and to engage himself in the conversations and discussions all around the glade.

A few hours later the werelight at the Menoa Tree began to dim.

Above the top of the trees the night was cold, colder than Eragon had expected it to be. He shivered slightly in his short-sleeved tunic. Leaning back in Saphira's saddle, gazing up towards the skies, he took a deep breath and sighed.

"_You are tired?"_

"_No", _he sighed again, "_Tired is not the right word for what I feel. But I am glad for the break. It is all so... overwhelming."_

"_The celebrations of the elves are very potent indeed..."_

Eragon could only agree with Saphira, but his blurred mind hardly could – or felt even the need – to escape the magic's influence.

" _We have just a few hours left till the ceremony begins...", _Saphira whispered through their link.

"_Yes."_

"_How long do you think you will need your rest?"_

"_Why?", _Eragon was surprised at her question.

"_I have a date, you know. I am making him wait already", _she turned her head after she spoke and Eragon rolled his eyes as she blink with one giant eye lid.

"_Don't laugh. We have just _hours _left."_

This sobered him quickly.

"_I am sorry, I didn't mean it like that..."_

But mischief welled up and through her mind.

"_Nor did I. And don't be sad because of my absence, I will leave you to pleasant company."_

"_What mysterious person that might be..."_

Saphira chuckled at him.

"_Come on. Be glad for the opportunity. You have just one day left as well..."_

But Eragon remained silent.

"_Do you regret to come here, Eragon?",_ Saphira questioned a tad sharply, "_Do you think it was a fault?"_

"_Hmn... No, no fault. But one thing bothers me: Should I wish to stay? Or to fly back home again? Because I desire both of it..."_

"_I understand, I really understand, Eragon", _her voice and the sound of her mind were very gentle now, "_But what shall I say? Be glad that we were here and for the time we shared with our friends. And hope that we will see them soon again..."_

But a few minutes later Eragon was standing on solid ground again and watched Saphira taking wing. The voices and music from the heart of the celebration only rang faintly in his sensitive ears and so he guessed that he was quite a stretch away from the glade of the Menoa Tree. Much louder however was the gentle gurgling of water to his right. He kept listening to the pleasant sound for another short minute and enjoyed his surroundings. The nightly air of the forest tasted nice on his tongue and he inhaled deeply to gather every single nuance of it.

Sighing at the pleasure of it he took a first step and started to look for the stream he heard flowing alongside his path. He found it easily and followed its wounded course till it brought him to a vast meadow, as he had been told it would. The meadow was thickly covered by lush dark green grass and colourful yet sleeping wildflowers and sedges were growing at the bank of the creek. However Eragon's eyes travelled elsewhere.

His gaze followed the bends of the running water until it met with a large boulder that laid nestled against a curve of the stream. It seemed strangely out of place in the otherwise flat landscape, but covered in moss and lichen as it was Eragon was sure it belonged to the perspective of this glade for far longer than he cared to count.

And beside it, and with that close to the other side of the meadow, a lone figure was standing with her hand resting lightly against the cold stone. Eragon couldn't really see her face, but by the bearing of her head he guessed that she was looking up to the tops of the trees and the stars above.

Smiling softly to himself he silently strode forward with measured steps. He steadily glided ever closer to her yet Arya never turned her head – apparently she was absorbed deep enough in her own thoughts that she didn't even sense his approach – or maybe he was just silent enough.

When he was just about ten feet behind her he opened his mouth to greet her – but then closed it again as a thought came to his mind. A thought that made him smile widely and halt in anticipation when words of old came ringing through his mind.

"How tall the trees, how bright the stars... and how beautiful you are, O Arya Svit-kona".

He had know from the very first step that he had just entered the glade where he had spoken these words to her once before.

Arya whirled around as she heard his voice, her eyes were widened in a way that told Eragon that Fírnen hadn't included her into the plans of their meeting.

_These cheeky dragons of ours, really..._

He grinned at the thought and he grinned at Arya when the astonishment drained from her face and was replaced by amusement. Eragon chuckled.

"A clumsy rhyme, alright, but not too bad according to the circumstances, wasn't it?"

He took his last steps to her side while he spoke and sat down on a low ledge of the boulder, still smiling.

"You have a talent for words, I always knew", she said and, to his slight surprise, sat down in the soft grass beside his place. Yet he smiled ruefully at her.

"Hm. Not back then, I daresay. Otherwise I had known better than to bring you in such a difficult position with my words."

Arya tilted her head and looked at him for a silent moment, studying what was in the depth of his eyes. She held his gaze for a long time and Eragon could see thoughts and emotions dancing swiftly in her eyes as the old memories rushed through her mind. But the vivid green calmed again and softened even more with her understanding.

"That had had nothing to do with your wording...", she said lowly, "But rather with the ingenuous notions of youth. You have been rash but you haven't been wrong", her gazed travelled down, to the rushing water at her feet, "You have only said what was true for you to that time, what you felt like… And there is no sin or shame in desiring love… And I… I judged you – rashly too – after a cliché. I have been harsh to you without even trying to understand... Without even considering that what you said to me could have come from an honest heart...

From the very beginning I burdened myself terribly that I had to hurt you like that, but sometimes I think I have not burdened myself enough."

She turned her head again and again watched him intently. Eragon saw apprehension in her eyes and wasn't sure whether he wanted to elicit this reaction from her.

"You only did what you deemed right...", Eragon smiled as kindly at her as he could, "And it _was _right, Arya. Don't let it get to you like that. You had no other option. _I_ left you no other option."

_At least to that time,_ he thought to himself, _At least to that time._

"Maybe we should agree that we both hadn't made it easy for us that night?"

"I think that would be reasonable", Eragon nodded to emphasize his words and leaned his head to her, smiling cheekily, "And we still can do better this night to make up for it, can't we?"

Arya smiled back at him and happily so, at least for Eragon's judgement, but on the same time he saw a thoughtfulness in her eyes that made him wonder. He didn't want any sad feelings to arise though, especially not on this night, and so tried his best to come up with a new subject.

"How did you come here then? You seemed surprised when I appeared. Didn't Fírnen tell you that I would come here too?"

Arya creased her brow.

"No... He told me that he was going to see Saphira though. I should have known that she'd bring you along."

"Maybe, yes...", he shrugged his shoulders, "I haven't been warned much either. But I am glad for the opportunity to spent some time with you. As usual dragons are omniscient and much more cunning than anyone of us could ever be."

"For sure", she played with the grass at her crossed over legs as she spoke, "And you? When do you plan on leaving us?"

Eragon silently watched her wrapping her fingers around the shining blades of grass. He watched her long, nimble fingers and felt sad after all. He waited with his reply till she looked up to him again.

"We planned on leaving tomorrow", he was sorry for leaving her again and by the look in Arya's eyes he was sure that she was sorry as well that he had to leave so soon, "I would love to stay longer, but our way is long and we have been absent from home for quite some time now... We cannot wait any longer."

Arya nodded at him and he saw her understanding for his situation, but also the regret she felt.

"I am glad that I came back, Arya", Eragon nearly whispered, trying to reassure her, "And I am thankful, very thankful, for your invitation. It... felt good to see you again."

Arya nodded and turned away again.

"I am glad too...", but contrary to her words she flexed her fingers a tad restlessly around the blades of grass, "And now you will go... home again. Eragon...", she hesitated, "Am I allowed to ask you something? Something personal? I won't be angry if you refuse to answer."

Eragon laughed softly at that and crossed his legs for a more comfortable position. Arya looked at him now and raised an eyebrow, but he only smiled and shook his head.

"Go ahead."

She turned away again.

"You have found a home for you and your dragon... A home you never want to abandon again, because it belongs to you now, if I got you right. And so I have been wondering... Well, I have really no right to ask you something like this, especially not I", the last part of the sentence was whispered, "And even less a right for an answer, but that decision is now yours", she looked up again and firmly gazed into his eyes as though searching for something, "Is there someone... someone you will come home to? Eragon, in all that time... Has there ever been someone... someone that belonged to you? Or... is there _now_... a woman you call your own?", she inclined her head, "I would be glad, you know..."

Her tone had become more and more careful while speaking and Eragon knew why as he recognized himself how immobile his feature suddenly felt. It was not that he chided her for posing such a question, but he felt an unease creep into his heart, an unease so intensive that he just had to defy it as best as he could. Thus the mask he had to put on. He took a deep steadying breath that vibrated strongly through his lungs.

"There was... a try", his voice was very low and he didn't know himself whether it was sad or anxious, "But nothing beyond that. So – no. There has never been – someone like that."

He had caught himself quickly. Nearly the word "_another"_ had escaped him – and he wasn't sure whether he wanted to answer her question like that. He was dead sure though that Arya didn't want him to answer like that. Dreadfully he watched her eyes widening slightly as they became more and more compassionate. It was not that he feared talking to her about his experiences considering this topic.

He was scared as hell of the answer he would receive if he was to pose the same question to her. Scared as hell.

"I am sorry... I don't want you to feel uncomfortable..."

Eragon chuckled at how easily she saw through him. In a way at least. He shook his head.

"Don't be", he mumbled and they shared another long moment of silence. It was hardly even broken by the softly whispered word Arya spoke, her lips barely moving.

"Why?"

Eragon could her the reluctance in her voice and understood her worry. He could see it visibly straining against what better judgement told her. And he couldn't blame her for her confusion – he found it hard to tell himself which explanation was the right one. So he shrugged his shoulders.

"It just never came to be. There was hardly ever even a chance for something like that and...", he smiled cheekily, "Nor were there ever many – options. Except for the elves that accompanied me there from the very beginning and the few others who joined as in the following years, all of them were my students. A relationship with one of them – if I had ever desired such a thing – would have been more than inappropriate."

"Of course...", she answered lightly, but it deemed to Eragon she was deep in thought. He was enlightened a second later.

"You said there was "a try" though?", again she asked carefully and a blink of her eye told him both that to answer or not was up to him and of her curiosity for this answer.

"Kind of a try, yes", he thought for a moment and with a sigh then decided to just tell her without overthinking things.

"Yaela started to show some affection, just very subtly at the beginning, many years after we had settled in Minuial", he paused shortly as Arya's eyebrows twitched upwards, but she remained silent and so Eragon proceeded, "I didn't know what to make of it at first – in a way I never knew what to make of it. But she remained persistent – cautious, but persistent."

Again Eragon paused. He stared at his own hands that laid folded in his lap, but he was very aware of Arya's gaze upon him.

"Yes, she remained insistent... and I had been alone, I had been alone for a very long time. And so I tried – and _try_ is exactly the right word – to go with it. But it just never worked."

He shrugged again and smiled wryly down at Arya's curious face.

"It was as though my brain was saying: 'Alright, she is nice, you like her, give it a try'. But my heart was crying: 'Do we really, _really_ have to?'"

Eragon laughed lightly at his own words and to his satisfaction Arya laughed with him, even if a bit reluctantly. They sobered quickly though and Eragon wasn't sure what to read into Arya's features. There was something foreign in her eyes whose meaning escaped him. He pondered that for a moment.

"And you?", he asked then and fought the anxiety rising in his chest as hard as he could. His need for clarity proved to be stronger than his apprehension though.

"Me?"

"Yes", Eragon couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as she seemed positively surprised, "What about you? Had someone ever... been yours?"

He watched her very closely, waited and hoped. Quite sure that there was no one in her life for now – for he would have heard at least whispers of it should the Queen have a mate – he was still anxious. The thought of someone – anyone – talking to her intimately, listening to her thoughts, touching her skin... It was impossible. On the other hand – shouldn't he grant Arya her happiness? Of course he should and he was very aware of the truth in this.

_She deserves all the happiness in the world. Even if that means that I will have to endure the thought of another man in her heart._

But it was Arya's turn to shrug her shoulders.

"My duties hardly leave time for much dating."

Eragon snorted softly and grinned a one-sided grin.

"I would be surprised if it were otherwise. But that was not the question", he tilted his head, the grin widening, "Come on."

"There is not much to tell you... Däthedr tried – or tries – from time to time. At least I think so, if I don't get his indications wrong. I don't think I do. I have always – very politely – declined his efforts. He is a good friend of mine and always helped me when there was need, but that is all. I am not interested in more."

Eragon nodded. He knew that Arya wouldn't accept anyone's courting on a whim. Nor did he.

_So where does this leave us?, _he thought the words that he dared not speak aloud, _It's a strange world, Arya, isn't it?_

He sighed and Arya found his gaze, returning it with a curious yet slightly unsure one of herself. Smiling gently, reassuringly, Eragon nimbly slid down from his place on the rock and came to sit beside her. He felt Arya's cautious eyes on him while he folded his knees, but he didn't look at her and rather stared into the shimmering stream just inches in front of him. Still smiling to himself he extended a hand and let his fingers dive underneath the surface. The cool water felt refreshing upon his skin and he watched for another minute how the rushing liquid circulated around his digits.

"Eragon..."

The soft voice beside him was close to him and as he turned his head he found Arya now facing him, her eyes intensive. He again found worry in them and he was sure he had a good guess on the topic that still occupied her mind.

"Eragon, that – incident, with Yaela...", her brow creased and her eyes darkened even more. He could see how much of an effort it cost her to speak on, "That had nothing to do with us, I hope..."

The unasked question hung in the air for a tension-filled second. Eragon thought that he had seen this question looming in her eyes a few minutes ago, yet he was surprised that she actually posed it.

"I cannot be because of... me, can it?", Arya went on as he didn't react, "It had been so long ago...", her words turned into a whisper, "I don't want it to be because of me..."

"No, I know you wouldn't want that."

"So?"

"Honestly?", he knew the question was for nothing, yet he still felt obligated to ask it. And for sure…

"Of course. What else?", she frowned.

"To be honest… I don't know", he watched with regret the shadow that darkened her features, "You are right, it had been so long ago… And being with Yaela just didn't feel right for me, I never found a deeper connection with her, if you know what I mean… So I would say no, it had nothing to do with… us. On the other hand, do I really know how much of what I think and feel is driven by instinct or subconsciousness or memories? I don't know."

He looked deep into her still wary eyes and a kind smile appeared on his face.

"I don't know that, Arya, but what I know is that nothing of this is your fault, nor do I want you to burden yourself with my problems… They will resolve themselves when the time is ripe, I am sure."

At that he slowly reached out, gave her time to reject him, yet when she didn't do that, he softly took her hand in his, enveloped it and gave it a slight squeeze.

He received no answer but the tightening of her fingers around his and stayed adamant as Arya drew up her knees to place her cheek on them. She scrutinized him out of her calm yet alert emerald eyes with her head still resting on her knees.

Eragon never wavered in returning that gaze, yet watched her as well for her reactions. He saw apprehension in those beautiful eyes, worry, regret – but also gentleness and compassion. He hoped that he returned these as much as he felt he did.

She was looking inside him so deeply, deeper than he thought possible, he felt captured by the force of her gaze, but he didn't wish to escape her intensity, nor break their eye-contact.

Arya was the first of them to move. She straightened again and took a deep breath which Eragon was unsure to interpret. Was it still the concern that stressed her, was she annoyed with him? She didn't seem so.

But before he could say or ask something, before he had even formed the intention to do anything at all, he saw Arya raising her left hand; her right one was still entangled with his. He watched the steady progress of her long fingers towards him and didn't shy away from the contact. On the contrary.

When she reached him he felt himself subconsciously lean his head ever so slightly against the warm palm that touched his face. Her skin was soft against his cheek and her cooler fingertips tingled and burned more than their temperature justified. A shiver ran down his spine.

"Eragon…"

The hand curled itself to the shape of his cheek, pressing her fingertips lightly into his skin before leaving it altogether.

"Eragon… How has it really been for you?", he heard her whispered words and jerked as though she had shouted them at him. He felt the relaxation somewhat strain away as he prepared himself.

"You know, I worried when you… went away. Our story somewhat got out of hand and your fate was gripping me. I could only guess what this had to feel like for you – and it scared me."

She spoke swiftly, hardly even pausing to take a breath. Maybe she was relieved to finally speak about this to him, or maybe she was anxious, or maybe she didn't want him to interrupt her speaking… Eragon thought it was better to await the answer and stay silent.

"It really scared me. And even though I knew you are strong enough to cope with it, I felt bad knowing your new life and the beginning of such a great future had to start with such pain… You didn't answer me yesterday and I understand and respect your decision if it is still the same today. I only worried… worried whether you felt pain for a very long time…"

Again she rested her head on her knees, her arms now wrapped around her shins, and looked at him. Looked at him so deeply and profoundly caring that Eragon felt his inhibitions melt away like snow besides a fire. But still other things worried him.

"I don't want our past to burden our future though", he smiled kindly at her, "I don't want to relive a painful past while a quite pleasant present is just there in front of me."

"This is very wise of you…", Arya answered him, yet her gaze remained insistent. She didn't pressure him with her intensity, but Eragon saw that she wouldn't let go of her thoughts, that she didn't want to distract herself – or got distracted – before she found an answer to her question.

He sighed. Who was he to deny her what she wanted? He had never been able to do so and neither could he now.

"Do I really have to explain what it felt like to lose you, Arya? You know what you meant to me back then, you read it in my _name_…", he noticed that her eyes widened for a moment, but that changed quickly and so he ignored it, "And if you have to let someone like this go, the most important person in your life, even though you know that it is the right thing to do, the only thing to do…"

He had to swallow suddenly and averted his gaze. It was so much easier to look into the beautiful crystalline liquid in front of him as his mind rushed back in time. The unease tightened the muscles in his chest, breathing became harder.

"It is hard to explain how this felt to me. It wasn't the first time I felt pain like this, but assuming that I might very well never, never see you again… My world was for a very, very long time not – whole anymore. Things had lost their colour and the sun her warmth and I felt like being caught in cold and pale winter… In the beginning I sometimes thought that I would never get over this, that the pain would never fade, even though reason told me otherwise. For more months than I cared to count it felt like this to me."

He took a short pause, but not one to think. No, thinking seemed not to be the right thing to do now. But he felt – and surprisingly so – relief wash over him as he spoke to her about his suffering. Relief that felt like clear, cold water that washed away an ache so old and deep that he had nearly forgotten that it still existed.

Arya was patient. She listened intently, or so he thought, because he couldn't hear even the slightest of movements at his side, no rustling of cloth over her skin, not even the sound of her breath as she sat beside him. But he was so painfully aware of her that she couldn't have made her presence any more obvious even if she were yelling at him.

"Then, after quite some time, with the distraction of our first students, the company and the challenge they posed, it got somehow better. The desperation settled into acceptance to that time, but it still, still was… difficult. So incredibly difficult… and that is another reason why I just couldn't make myself contact you again for I was scared to look into your eyes and feel the distance… I was so sick of the pain to that time, Arya, I was so very sick of it."

He had to stop speaking after that and a rather long and not very comfortable silence spread between them. The presence of Arya, still so vibrant and intensive, felt suddenly burdensome, even though he was sure that her leave-taking would feel even worse. So Eragon was glad that she made no move to leave him, yet he regretted to have lost the ease they had shared before.

After a long minute he took his courage and turned his face towards her. Her pose hadn't changed much this last few minutes, the only difference in it was that she now rested her chin on her knees so that she could look at him with more ease.

And so she still did, scrutinizing him intensively with wide eyes whose expression wavered between sadness and wonder. Eragon thought that she looked quite overwhelmed. He was sure she didn't expect him to reveal so much – he was surprised himself. Yet he had felt a sudden urge to share this experiences with her, to finally get rid of the accumulated feelings and memories he held inside.

He wanted to share.

"Arya?"

A flicker in her dark eyes.

"Yes?"

The breathy tremor in her voice told him everything; she was just as touched as he was. His words left his mouth just as softly. As he spoke he never took his eyes away from hers, but he couldn't help to feel his mind drift away.

"Do you remember how it was before? Before I left Alagaësia and before you became queen... Do you remember what we once had?"

He didn't know what made him ask this. He was aware that in a way it wasn't a question at all as he knew the answer as surely as she did. But some urge just made him ask or rather tell her - he just wanted her to understand. He wanted her to feel – to feel what he felt like.

"I know what you mean", she whispered and looked down for just a second, "It is hard to understand, isn't it? To reunite past and present ... Who we once were, who we are now..."

Their words were so very alike; it elated him. Without thinking much about it Eragon followed the urge that grew within him – he lifted a shaky hand and ever so slightly let it rest upon her soft cheek. He watched the twitch of her features, but didn't feel worried because of it. The gleam in her eyes had already reassured him.

"Is it really you? I remember so much... Is it still really you?"

His words couldn't make her gaze waver, this time there was nothing to dull the glowing green that penetrated his very being. Yet his skin tingled as she laid her own hand above his and pressed it more securely to her cheek.

"Of course it is me, Eragon. Who else should I be?"

"You can never know... The world keeps twisting and turning and we cannot help but to follow its lead", Eragon sighed with a tired voice and his thumb brushed ever so slightly along her slanted cheekbone, but it wasn't that that widened Arya's eyes, but the sudden closeness of his body as he very carefully leaned into her. Eragon held her gaze as long as he could, till he lost it due to their proximity. The smell of her skin and her hair filled his senses as his lips got ever closer to her pointed ear.

"The very same, yes?", he waited a moment to let her prepare for what he wanted to say, "Arya..."

And then he whispered her name, her true name, the one she once told him, softly into her ear.

It took only a fraction of a second. A fraction of a second and he knew who sat beside him, for the tremor that shook her body proved the words he had spoken to be true.

She was still the same.

_She is still Arya, the Arya I knew. My Arya._

He couldn't help the wide smile that brightened his features.

And he couldn't prevent what happened next. The elation to know, to _see _her again was just too much. Maybe he wouldn't have done it if the fire of the night's magic wasn't running through his veins, but he really couldn't put all the blame on this dazzling feast.

He took his hand away from her face, untangled his other one from her fingers and then gently, carefully, yet without hesitation laid his arms around her back and drew her body into his. There wasn't that much of a gap for him to close – they had already been this close.

For a second her body tensed, but that changed quickly and he felt her muscles slackening as her scent and her warmth engulfed him into bliss. She didn't wrap her arms around his body though, but laid her hands gently onto his upper arms, her grip both firm and gentle.

She didn't resist or deny his boldness, for he was sure he was quite bold, and that made him very happy. And suddenly he was _there _and she was _there, _and in a way they felt _together_ for the first time again. As though he would have seen her – found her – just this very moment.

Only one doubt drenched his thoughts in this moment of perfection: She didn't ask him about his name in return and he wondered about the reason for that. Did she know what he knew? For he knew that he wasn't the one she had known by name anymore. Maybe that was the explanation for her hesitation. Arya would know better than to embarrass herself by asking a name she knew wasn't true.

He respected this decision, if his guess was right at it, and he would wait for her to finally ask it until she – they – were ready for it.

They remained locked together like this for a very long time and neither of them desired to break away from the touch they shared. The comfort it brought was just too good to deny.

Eragon couldn't image anything that ever, ever could make up for the time he had suffered, had mourned her loss, but in this comparatively short moment, as he felt her warm breath beside his ear and this small midnight lock that brushed his temple, he found a joy, a solace that made him believe that there was mercy and grace in this world after all.

It took a long time till they reluctantly straightened themselves again. Their arms withdrew slightly with the motion, Eragon's slid from her back to rest shallowly upon her upper arms as though he just couldn't stand to cease his touch on her completely. But Arya raised her hands as they locked eyes again and rested her slightly shaking fingers on each side of his face. Eragon had to shut his eyes for a moment as he felt the soft touch on his warmed up skin.

Serenely they stared into each other's eyes, both filled with a mixture of deep joy and reluctant shyness that made up the purest way a heart could feel – could love. The gentlest smile appeared on Eragon's face as he realized what had just happened between them and was reflected just a second later by Arya. It was beauty, her smile.

Accordingly, Eragon was startled as it suddenly faded. She paused obviously and something in her gaze changed, her eyes widening in what seemed both curiosity and fascination. They looked away from his, but didn't leave _him. _A bit worried Eragon wondered at what she thought as she apparently watched her own fingers that never left his face. He drew slightly back as Arya didn't explain herself and his unsureness only grew.

"Wait", she said urgently though and Eragon halted in his movement. Her fingertips still traced slightly over his cheeks, feeling his skin, "I have never - "

But she was interrupted by a boisterous laugh from him as he understood. Arya for sure had never touched another human like this. And he hadn't shaved for nearly three days now.

"It feels... strange", she whispered in owe as she still felt the stubble on his cheeks and above his upper lip with her fingertips.

And then her laugh mingled with his and only sparked more delight in Eragon as he saw and heard her laughing, really laughing, her bell-like voice ringing beautifully within his ears, her eyes glowing. And he laughed with her till he was out of breath, laughed about the sheer ridiculousness of the moment and about the act of caprice that seemed to be their fate. And Arya didn't remove her hands until they both had calmed down again.

With a last muted chuckle Eragon folded his arms behind his back and leaned back against the bolder. In an attempt to clear his head he looked up to the stars that sparkled brightly in the utter darkness that surrounded them. Only the large moon outshined their brilliance. It must be late.

"Yes", he could hear Arya sigh as though she had read his thoughts, "I guess it is time..."

Before he could answer her he could hear a rustling beside him that told him that she had risen to her feet. When he opened his eyes he found her indeed standing beside him and looking down at his face with warmth in her eyes.

"We still have a feast to attend, I fear", she extended her hand, "Come on. Come with me."

Smiling he took her hand, but he didn't use it as the help for getting up she had offered it as. He just held it within his own while he rose to his feet. She was right, Eragon thought, they still had a job to do tonight and the way was long. Yet not long enough, in his opinion.

"You are looking worried suddenly", Arya nearly whispered and took another step towards him, "There is no need. Why are you worried about the ceremony?"

"I am not worried about the ceremony", he sighed and his voice got very low, "I am worried about tomorrow."

He felt her hand tightening around his.

"I know", her words were nothing but a whisper in the wind, yet there was determination in her face, steel in her eyes, "But do you know what, Eragon?"

"What?", he asked back and couldn't completely keep a smile from appearing on his face.

"I don't regret that I have invited you to come here after all, even though I have been scared, too. I made the right decision in the end, even though I haven't been sure of it, in the beginning. And even though fate had decided to bring us in such different ways onto this world, I don't believe anymore, after all that had happened, that this shall be the end."

Her eyes softened slightly now and Eragon watched her sudden declaration with owe.

"You are the best friend I ever had. And no matter what fate might bring us in the future, I know that we will see each other again. I will believe in it. I simply will believe in it."

It took Eragon a second to process all the fascinating things she said. In the end he was simply touched. Touched to such a decree that he could do nothing to show his gratitude but with the smile on his face and the touch of his hands as he took her other hand too and squeezed them gently.

A moment later he was amused though.

"I am in the presence of a true rarity, it seems."

Arya frowned at his words and the tilt in his voice that alone spoke for his cheeriness.

"An elf that stops reasoning and dares to truly believe is for sure a sight to behold. Maybe wonders do happen after all", he winked at her, "And I think it's my duty to stay close to witness it, isn't it?"

Her frown disappeared as she listened to his words, but the confusion didn't leave her face completely. As though she didn't quite know what to make out of his words. It made Eragon laugh.

"Come on now, your people are waiting for you."

With that he softly led her away from the bolder and the small stream, towards the edge of the meadow and underneath the thick blanket of pine trees. And Arya followed him, walking silently at his side with one of her hands still in his.

"Eragon", she whispered again, yet surrounded by only silent trees and darkness her voice felt so much louder to him – surrounded by only trees, it felt so much more intimate to him.

"I really regret that you have to leave again."

"No, I don't regret in the slightest to leave, Arya. But I regret dearly that I have to leave you behind again."

She stayed silent. Longer than Eragon would have expected. He wondered. He wondered at how strained her words suddenly were.

"Let's not talk about it anymore. We are together. Now."

_Yes. We are. Now._

* * *

><p>It was a few hours before dawn. Before dawn and before the werelight in the Menoa Tree would dim and mark the end of the Agaetí Blödhren. But it only just began.<p>

Eragon was sitting in the first line of a vast circle of people with Fírnen and Saphira at his side and they all watched her. They all watched and listened to Arya who stood on a root of the giant tree again and spoke about the last century, about the progress they all had made, all the races and Alagaësia itself.

She also spoke of the Order where all the races were united to became one entity. She said that she was proud to be called one of them and of what they had accomplished. And how glad she was – and how glad we all could be – that there are again dragons, both wild and bound, flying in the skies and of the Riders that lead them.

When she concluded her speech she came to sit beside Eragon whom she had honoured in her speech just as the dragons.

When Iduna and Nëya began to dance both the Queen and the Rider started to hum and weigh, just as all the others, along with the tune in the air and the rhythm of the dancing twins. Their dragons weren't sure whether they even realized that their hands had already found each other again.

Their shoulders touched as they leaned into each other, their bodies finding an rhythm all of their own as the drum beat carried on.

* * *

><p>As always... I am very, very sorry that I took so long. And I am even more sorry because your reviews for the last chapter were so... damn amazing. Really, thanks to all of you who left me one of these most fabulous encouragements<em>, <em>you cannot imagine how good such reassurance feels to me, you are a balm to my soul! Thanks a lot!

So, this was the pinnacle of Eragon's time in Ellesméra. The deeper meaning: I am done now (finally ;) with the reconciliation. Now Eragon and Arya are (I hope) where they once were at the end of Inheritance, I hope I got it right, you tell me.

I small kind of epilogue will follow now to conclude this and then let's FINALLY proceed and as Arya said so fittingly: Then let's not talk about it (this damn separation) anymore. ;)

Hope you liked it!

Greetings, AryaNuanen

PS: I think you are right, Drottningu Breol. I thought too that I write quite the Eragon that we know from the books and not the one that had lived already a hundred years... It's hard for me to get that right, I admit, for the picture of him in my head is still the one I got to know from the books... I will try to do better, and I think it will get better for it will be different for Eragon and Arya to meet in Minuial where he belongs... She will be surprised I think of who he is now ;) Thanks for your opinion!

PPS: Please be especially gracious with me with grammar and/or spelling mistakes this time... As I (tried) to proofread this chap this evening I was tired enough to fall head-first onto my notebook...


	11. Chapter 10  The inescapable Truth

Usually impatience wasn't a trait of his.

But today wasn't a usual day either and Fírnen felt the tension in the air just as strongly as his Rider did. Somewhat irritated though he put his foot down with considerable strength to finally get Arya's attention. He failed.

"_Arya, don't dawdle right there. Come on. We will be late and even later. They will be waiting."_

This finally had an effect on the elven woman who stood just a few metres beside him – and the Crags of Tel'naeír. She turned her head to look at him and gave a silent nod to appreciate his comment. Her face remained blank though and no spark, no light in her eyes betrayed her thoughts.

Fírnen watched her silently as she approached and his regret for her dilemma even pierced his own agitation.

"_What have you been looking at_?", he asked in a low voice while she climbed nimbly onto his naked back. He had turned his head towards the Rider now sitting in the crook of his neck to watch her with more senses than his own mind. Arya though preferred to still gaze at something far, far beyond, not at him. The music of her mind played in the back of his, but the colour of her emotions was dulled by a heavy mantle. Not deliberately hidden, but smothered by the nature of her distress. A gentle lick from Fírnen's tongue at her leg brought her back from her distraction though, and so she finally answered his question.

"_At the only thing there is that both scares and lures me beyond this forest. The horizon."_

Fírnen blinked once, unable to find words to soothe her pain, and nudged her side tenderly with his nose.

"_Don't be sad..."_

She tried not to appease him with a false smile – both of them knew they were beyond that. But her hand was gentle as she stroked down along his scale-clad jaw.

"_I know, Fírnen. I know I should not."_

He puffed out a plume of smoke at her words. Her distress both disturbed and irritated him.

"_You spoke so very differently yesterday... Do I have to recite your own words to you again to let you see hope?"_

"_No, you don't have to – and no, I did not. It is not that I have changed my mind, but rather the focal point of my thoughts has shifted. Yesterday I spoke of reunion, today I think of separation."_

"_You would be better off sticking to the first", _Fírnen said dryly and took wing without further words. He still felt the sadness circulate through their joined minds, as both of them were suffering a shared loss, but he just couldn't imagine a spoken word that would help her. He tried to change the subject.

"_We haven't managed as much as we thought we would", _as he felt Arya's confusion he said more precisely, "_Saphira and I. We didn't speak about everything she wanted to speak with me about. Even though she hurried through the topics."_

"_No. I didn't expect you to, either. The issue is vast and the time was scarce...", _despite her negative words he felt pleasure resonate within Arya's mind as she leaned back, closing her eyes and enjoying the air rushing past her face. He had straightened his attitude at this time and was floating gently through the cooling air.

"_Well, I lived a hundred years without it..."_

"_But you shouldn't had to from the very beginning", _Arya repeated sternly, her eyes snapping open, "_And you shouldn't have to now."_

"_What's the alternative? Go there?"_

She remained silent for a few long seconds and Fírnen listened to her staggering thoughts. But neither her thoughts, nor her emotions were very edifying.

"_Not now. It's not impossible though. Maybe sometime… a suitable moment…"_

"_And you think you will ever think the present moment to be suitable?",_ he knew that his words just confirmed her own intuition. She would always feel needed here, with her people. She twisted her face at the awareness of the truth.

„_I will try… I promise you that I will try very hard…"_

He didn't reply to her words. It's not that he didn't believe her, no, he knew that she really meant what she said. But that couldn't change anything about his opinion. Releasing a heavy puff of smoke he gazed ahead instead where Tialdarí-Hall was approaching quickly.

Just seconds later his attention snapped back to his Rider however as a strange tremor in Arya's mind made him wonder.

"_What was that?"_

She stopped dead in her line of thoughts, but hesitated to answer. He didn't wonder about that.

"_What is it that disturbs you, my dear? I just got only fractions of it and I... was too distracted yesterday night to listen to the both of you. What did he say to you that unsettles you?"_

And – unasked, unsought - Eragon's words echoed through her head again:

_"Do I really have to explain what it felt like to lose you, Arya? You know what you meant to me back then…"_

She tried to control her notions, Fírnen could tell so much. But she didn't succeed completely to hide her doubts, not from him.

"_Arya, what are you thinking...", _his words sounded like a sigh, even to him himself.

"'_What you meant to me, back then', he said. 'Back then...'"_

Fírnen knew her problem. The contrast of this words and his behaviour seemed to confuse her.

"_You are blowing things up, Arya. I don't think he expressed himself like that intentionally. He left no doubt about the affection he feels for you before, did he?_

"_No… And I know I shouldn't worry about something as trivial as this… But still… Aren't the things coming from our subconsciousness mostly more important and true than the conscious things we do or say? Maybe he moved on, after all."_

"_And if he did? What did you expect? And what would be the consequence?", _she couldn't quite escape the stern sound of his voice, "_Do you want him to crave you? Still?"_

He felt the glare she gave him in the back of his head. But he didn't regret his words. Dragons never do.

"_No. That's not what I meant, and you know that. It's just… it makes me sad, somehow…", _he heard a deep sigh behind him, "_I don't know. Sometimes I feel so clueless still, still so young, despite my years. I really don't know."_

"_That's what I am thinking, too", _he stated as he let himself fall into a dive, "_You don't know what you want at the moment."_

An unhappy silence stretched itself long between them as Fírnen floated ever downwards, down to the clear field in front of the Hall where there was enough space for him to land.

Arya's body still felt stiff there in the nape of his neck.

"_Hush now. We are here."_

Her voice was tight too - it made Fírnen chuckle. Yet Arya apparently chose not to talk any further, but remained silent and thoughtful – and still annoyed with both herself and her dragon – as they headed ever closer to the ground.

There on the ground – quite close – they all were waiting for them.

* * *

><p>Saying farewell was not a forte of hers. And so Saphira's and Eragon's leave-taking took place in only a small circle.<p>

Arya had only brought the most important members of her House – and Fírnen of course – to bid their friends farewell. So this meeting wasn't private either, and accordingly her speech was simple. It contained only the words of a queen, words addressed to a visiting ruler, nothing else.

Only the ones who knew her better, like Däthedr and Eragon of course, recognized the inklings of affection in her voice and face. She was acting very well, even if slightly bemused by the one she spoke to.

For Eragon's eyes never left hers, not even once while she spoke, and only very reluctantly as one of her counsellors addressed him. The hazel orbs were resting warmly on her, calm and yet intensive, intimate in a way that was improper for an official appointment such as this.

For once she didn't care about that.

As he spoke himself, thanking her and her House for their friendship and hospitality, his voice was just as gentle as his eyes.

And as Arya then replied that his visit was their pleasure and their honour and asked him whether there was a favour she could grant him before he leaves, he only said, gently again:

"No. No, you already did everything you could do for me, my Queen."

And the sting in her chest only confirmed her own intuition; just as she was the only one who knew that his answer wasn't just hollow words.

* * *

><p>Saying farewell was not a forte of hers – but neither wanted she to leave it to this.<p>

Not for her friend, not for Fírnen and Saphira, and not for herself. And so she followed her guests as they left the forest ground behind to _really _bid them farewell, in the way they deserved it.

Now they were floating together, not high in the skies anymore, but close to the crowns of the proud pine trees. The dragons flew side by side, close enough so that the tips of their wings were only inches apart. And the Riders looked aside from time to time, looking at the other, finding his eyes and holding his gaze for a few short moments before breaking apart again.

Like this they shared their last few hours together, and they shared it in silence. In silence, yet so exquisitely aware of the presences they were surrounded by that the lack of sound wasn't reducing the bond they felt.

In an instant such as this, as Arya found her eyes again searching for the one she had shared her entire being with, she felt herself suddenly pricked by awareness. She couldn't tell herself what had made the change, there had been nothing coming from any of them that might have elicited such a reaction, that might have woken her from the state of daze that had surrounded her mind for the first hour of their flight, but still it was there.

Her eyes met Eragon's and she gazed deeply into them across the distance that separated them due to the wing span of their dragons, and she gazed deeply. Nostalgia crawled up in her belly, knotting up with the loss she felt at the thought of his leaving – and the joy that he was here – now – with her.

She suddenly found herself wondering what he was thinking right now. But his eyes were deep too, and reading them wasn't as easy anymore as it had been once before.

He never turned his face though and so allowed her for a very long time to scrutinize the flickers that danced in the shadows of his irises. But Arya was sure that even _her_ guess was far from grasping all the myriad thoughts and feelings inside of him.

And still his eyes never wavered or shied away from her intensity. This time she was the one to look away.

"_You were right, Fírnen", _she told her dragon in a low voice full of wonder and, somehow, pride, "_There is no boy riding beside me anymore. He has grown to a man."_

Her thoughts were answered by an approving grunt. Her dragon seemed to be elsewhere too, what amused her slightly.

"_I wish I had been there to see the things that had let him become what he is now. Don't you think so too?"_

" _Not necessarily as much as you do, my dear, but I know what you mean", _he shifted his gaze to the dragon lady to his left, "_I sometimes wish that I had been there, too. Yes... very much so even."_

Arya gave a nod and padded his shoulder. She understood his misery. She knew he longed to see his son and regretted dearly that he hadn't been able to see him grow up, that he hadn't even seen or talked to him once.

Again an old pain began to gnaw at her insides; a pain that she had once thought to be defeated for evermore. But her enemy had gained strength this last few days.

"_Fírnen...",_ she began, her voice very low and very thin even in her own mind, "_Do you sometimes doubt your decisions?"_

She felt the thoughts of her dragon racing as he tried to get her meaning. It didn't take him long to see it though and the compassion that emanated from him then didn't make it easier for her to deal with her rebelling notions.

"_It is a waste of time to rack your brain about something that is done and gone. And it certainly won't make you happier."_

"_No, it won't",_ she said, knowing the truth behind his words, and let her gaze travel back to the dragon and Rider at her side.

"_But you still sometimes think that we should have gone with them after all. Isn't that what you wanted to say?"_

Her dragon's words and his mind were very gentle and very careful as he told her this. And as it happens so often nowadays, he had again vocalized what she didn't dare herself.

Some would say that the word "dare" was the wrong word here, of that she was sure. Hadn't she as a young girl been told that doubting was a weakness? That letting your thoughts and concentration stray by notions as low as this was a vice? Yes, that's what they had said. That turning your back on your decisions and principles was nothing else than losing ground – nothing else than defeat in itself and that only the adamant and strong were to find their place in life.

This is what an elf would tell you.

The dwarves always said that elves were "capricious". In Arya's opinion they had never been more wrong. Elves were in no way "capricious" – or flexible.

But she wasn't an elf anymore. Not only. She was a Dragon Rider. And nowadays she sometimes wasn't sure anymore whether taking the throne of her people had been an act of courage or cowardice.

"_Arya..."_

She blinked as Fírnen gave her a mental nudge, "_Do not make the day any harder than it already is. There is really no need now to dig so deeply."_

But the pictures of Minuial won't leave her head so easily. Nor were they forgotten in her dragon's mind, of that she was sure.

"_I know. They are all there though, aren't they? All of them but us..."_

"_And Eragon and Saphira will soon be there again, too", _she added.

"_Yes..."_

"_Fírnen?"_

"_Yes?"_

She looked up and her eyes narrowed as they met with the blazing red light of the setting sun. The horizon.

"_Fírnen... Even if it is just for a visit – but I want to go there."_

After her daring request – and to her immense surprise - Fírnen gave a loud laugh. His mind was ringing with amusement and a deep chuckling escaped his mouth. Both Eragon and Saphira turned as they heard it, but in this instant Arya was only aware of her dragon. He turned his head and blinked at her.

"_That's my girl."_

* * *

><p>Nor was regret usually an habit of hers.<p>

But nothing was usual about tonight and – as always – the end came far too soon.

In the last hour of their shared flight they had followed Gaena River and then it took them just another couple of minutes to reach the borders of Du Weldenvarden. Yet they sailed even further. Eldor Lake sparkled beneath them in the cool light of the first stars as the dragons finally dived for the ground. They landed on top of a hill but a league away from the lake where soft grass fields now displaced the majestic trees of Du Weldenvarden.

Both Ridersnclimbed off their dragon's backs in silence.

Arya's feet met the ground with a gentle thud as the impact of her weight, small as it was, was absorbed by the dense vegetation of the ground. Her eyes drifted eastwards and away from her home. From their heightened position on the hill she could see far, but still there was nothing to make out in the distance but the rustling blades of grass. The landscape was beautiful as night fell silently. In the wind and moonlight the wavering feather grass of the prairie moved and shined like the waves of a gramineous ocean.

She barely could hear the muffled footsteps that approached her, but she did after all, and she feared them. The moment, the silence, wasn't that much an uncomfortable one, but difficult nonetheless, and Arya tried hard to find the right words to address him. Yet it seems Eragon beat her.

She turned the instant he stepped around Fírnen so he could see her face and smiled at her. She liked his smiles. She always had. Even as they had been just the boyish grins of an infatuated adolescent. And now, as he was considerably older, his smiles gave his face a warmth which lit up his features like nothing else. And warmth fit the colours of his irises so well...

"Why don't we take a seat down there?", he asked her then, speaking softly as if not wanting to disturb the peaceful sounds of the night around them, "It will be more comfortable than standing I'd say..."

The last sentence sounded like a product of doubt and nervousness and so she tried to smile at him as kindly as she could. To ease his discomfort.

"Yes. I'd like that."

She retrieved the object she had prepared for this moment from within the depths of her saddle bags, then gave Fírnen a last pat onto his shoulder as he nudged her arm in response before he walked slowly up to Saphira. They didn't go away, just tried to give the other pair some space and chose another place at the hill's fall to call their own. As Arya stepped to Eragon's side their dragons too sank down onto their stomachs to lay side by side in the soft cushion of the grass. Arya smiled tenderly as she saw the intertwined tails and claws and the way they snuggled their cheeks together. It was the most beautiful mosaic of green and blue she had ever seen.

She quickly turned her attention back to her companion however and found him sitting cross-legged at the beginning of the fall just a few metres in front of her. Without rushing her movements she strode leisurely to his side, very aware of his constant gaze upon her. She finally revealed the backside of the small picture frame to his eyes which she had kept behind her back until now. Smiling as curiosity made its way onto his face she sat down beside him still not showing directly what the frame contained.

"Before we do or say anything else", she began, "I owe you a welcome present. I admit it is a bit late..."

She was glad that this made him chuckle. The light in his eyes was back.

"Arya... I told you, you don't have to..."

But she shook her head.

"No, Eragon. I insist. It was impolite of me in the first place. Will you accept my present now?"

That he smiled at her in what she could only detect as lenience annoyed her somewhat.

Yet he took the small frame from her hands without further complains and scrutinized the coloured plate of slate within it with wonder. She felt like explaining herself.

"It's not much... And even less if you compare it to the piece of art you gave to me. And I didn't have much time to prepare it either, after the celebration... But I thought you would like it, as a portrait, in the truest sense of the word, of our time together."

As he turned his eyes back to her again she could see that he was glad for her small present. Positively surprised even. That was all she had aimed to achieve.

"I appreciate your present very much, Arya", he tilted his head closer and smiled lopsidedly, "And it is just as valuable to me – because of the thoughtfulness you invested into it."

"I am glad", a thought made its way into her mind, "And maybe it will remind you – to stay in touch."

He took her retort with a wry, yet somehow graceful smile, never looking away from her artwork. As said, it was not much. Just a fairth of a small meadow in a darkened forest, where two figures sat together besides a black boulder and a sparkling stream. The shapes of all things were blurred by the impressionistic technique the artist had chosen – but you could see that the two were holding hands.

She watched silently while Eragon placed the fairth carefully at his side. His eyes dwelled on the scene for another minute, but Arya's gaze was averted as a gleam in the corner of her eye caught her attention.

A firefly had just appeared in front of her and kept on swirling up and down before rushing past her to join its friends. Behind her, in the bushes and branches on the other side of the hill, many of its brothers were tumbling through the night air. She could also hear the crickets chirring all around her and the thought of the fireflies dancing to their songs amused her. It was such a beautiful summer night. So perfect.

It could as well be raining for how much she was able to enjoy it.

Despite her efforts – and Fírnen's – to convince herself to see recent developments positively, the whole issue was still heavy on her heart. And by the way – even if they both had decided to remain in closer contact from now on – who were they to dictate fate? She could die tomorrow in some ridiculous accident; it had happened before. Deep within her she knew there was no, could never be, any prove that they would see each other again.

And she had so many things on her mind.

Some of them she would like to tell him, but convinced herself otherwise. Others she couldn't even admit to herself, but still kept on looming in the back of her head.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself she turned away from her heavy thoughts, only to find her companion already searching for her gaze. She met his intensive scrutiny without difficulty, yet still aware of his insight into her own being. She wondered how much he guessed of the thoughts and feeling inside of her. But she was beyond fearing his intrusion. He had for long been a carrier of her secrets now.

"Eragon...", the words came just rolling onto her tongue; and she allowed them, "Do you think you have changed?"

He tilted his head as she awaited his answer. He seemed slightly surprised by the question.

"Yes. Of course. Haven't you?"

"Not much it seems. You know that."

Somehow this fact still felt embarrassing for her and she couldn't help to notice that her own voice was getting lower while speaking.

"Hm", Eragon began, uncertainty obvious in his voice and on his face, "Maybe just not enough to change your true name."

She wasn't sure whether she imagined the way something in his eyes shifted as he said this. The tightening in them, whether rooted in anger, disappointment or something else, just didn't fit in the concept she had in her mind. But what she just couldn't have imagined was the twinge of sadness she heard in his voice. She herself felt suddenly torn between unsureness and defensiveness.

Knowing that the circumstances of his life had changed much more than hers, it was only natural that he had developed more than she did, wasn't it? She was the Queen of the Elves, she had reigned her people for a hundred years now – and as good as or even better than some other queens or kings. She had carried out her duty for even seventy years more before that.

Her brow creased slightly. How could he, especially him, doubt her accomplishments?

But then again... Wasn't she wondering herself about the same thing? Hadn't she been startled too, as she realized how much more he had grown while obviously for her nothing had changed at all?

Her inner monolog stopped when she caught the look of grim affirmation on Eragon's face. She frowned again, puzzled and wondering. Were her thoughts so easy to read on her face? Opening her mouth to ask him finally what he meant, she was smothered though by Eragon shaking his head.

"This is not an issue for now. Not for tonight", he smiled, "It would be a shame to taint such beautiful hours with heavy thoughts. It's not a pressing matter now."

A sudden warmth on her hand startled her shortly, but a split second later the feeling of his palm felt familiar and pleasant. Her tightened shoulders slackened involuntary.

"Eragon?"

"Hm?"

"Why should it be unimportant?"

Still smiling he now enveloped her hand and she didn't resist the urge to return his gesture.

"I haven't said that. It is not, especially not for you. If you want to we can talk about it once... We will I think. Just not now. Are you alright with that?"

She was thankful for his question.

Though still not sure whether they even talked about the same thing, she was sure that their issues were related at least. She agreed however that this was hardly the time and place to talk about her... career and so nodded her agreement.

"So... what have we been talking about before?"

Though paddling back to the beginning of their conversation he never ceased the hold on her hand. This last few days Arya was more than once surprised by herself. In elven society touching another was a rare thing and she had accommodated faster to his frequent disregard of that than she thought she could.

"About changes, I think."

"Yes. Everything changes... And it is good that it does. Usually."

He grinned at his words, but his joyfulness couldn't quite reach his eyes. Arya knew why. They were talking about something else than they were talking about. The meaning of her words, or rather the intent of her question, was as clear to him than it was to her, yet he hesitated. She knew she had no right to ask him about something that so fundamentally belonged only to him and so she didn't, not really.

But she knew he would be selfless and generous enough to have a bad conscience if he wouldn't answer her nonetheless. She wanted to reassure him that he didn't have to.

"You know...", she began very carefully, "You don't..."

But she was cut short again.

"Yes, I know", his voice was very gentle and his thumb was stroking once across her knuckles, now to reassure _her, _"This, too, is an issue for another time, I think... "

She couldn't ask him about his name directly. Just telling him her own won't make it her claim to ask of him the same. Even though she knew he would tell her, if she just did so much as ask him to.

They looked deeply into each other's eyes. Arya wasn't sure what he saw in hers, but she found worry within them, apprehension - he worried whether she was angry or disappointed of him. And the regret she knew he would feel for leaving this bargain to his advantage.

"But you should know already...", she just had to smile at the slightly pleading tone in his voice, "I am sure you do. The only thing right now that is important for me is who I am for you. And you alone can know that."

She sobered again at his words and took a deep breath as his hand very tenderly cupped one side of her face. His fingers were cool in contrast to the hand she held in her own, but she didn't care.

"Arya, who am I for you?"

She was touched by the urgency in his voice. And despite his fears, she wasn't angry or disappointed of him at all. She knew he wouldn't keep from showing her his affection or shy away from the closeness unless something fundamental was keeping him from doing it.

And his eyes were far too sure, far too wise and too vulnerable to let her think anything else.

With a blink of her eyes she reassured him that she understood. And that she didn't resent him for waiting. She would be patient and wait till the time felt right for him.

"You ask me then who I think you are... Do you know what Fírnen once told me?", she began, startling him with her words. Smiling she took the hand that still rested on her cheek and intertwined them too. She turned slightly towards him due to the privacy of their topic and as their knees touched accidently she had to subdue the amusement she felt as she saw the involuntary twitch of his muscle.

"He said once that we were but reflections in a mirror."

"Hm. You will have to explain that to me, I am afraid."

"Yes", her eyes dropped, looking at the four hands in front of her, "I didn't know what to make of it at first either. But he's got a point there."

Thinking for a second her gaze drifted to the skies above the lonesome plains. There was no trace of the sun anymore but the slightest band of colour where the horizon met the swirling grass far beyond in the east. She swallowed.

"In the beginning you and I were very different. Let it be the age, the society, our social background or our positions – nothing fit. You've been born as a farmer, as a human, without any kind of education in a small town far away from everything... I am sure your life was rich, but it was simple as well. And you've always been so very much younger than me."

Her thoughts raced back, nearly without her consent, to times she didn't like remembering. For most people childhood was something they enjoyed to remember.

"For me, life had never been simple. I was born as the successor to the elven throne and expected to function like that from the very beginning. Failure or imperfectness was an impossibility. First for my mother, and then for me too. I was raised in the capital of our kingdom and from my very first years trained by only the wisest and strongest of our nation.

Not much of that had changed when we first met eye to eye, in Tronjheim. But then... After the war, such a short and such a long time later, suddenly everything had changed."

Looking up she met with his brown irises and understood the tension she found there.

"Of course you were still very young, but far beyond your own age. And since the Agaetí Blödhren you physically matched my race more than your own. We both had killed a Shade. Just as you slew Galbatorix and I slew Shruikan.

And then Fírnen hatched for me and made me a Rider too, just like you. And we both found ourselves as one of the most powerful people in Alagaësia. And then... we separated out of duty. Out of obligation for our people. That is the only thing irregular within this tale: For you went away, whereas I stayed... But above all..."

Her fingers tightened around his.

"You suddenly had become a better alley, companion, friend, call it what you want, than I ever had. Not even with Fäolin I had been this close. With no one else I have ever even considered sharing my name.

As time went by we became more and more alike... Don't you think so?"

They looked at each other for a very long time. And whenever Arya looked back to this moment later on, she would never be able again to say how long. But neither of them felt the increasing coldness of the night air, or the wind that carried the delicate scent of the wild flowers which grew in between the ever flowing masses of feather grass. Nor did they recognize that their dragons had stopped their own conversation and now gazed intently towards their Riders and their mixed feelings.

"I have never...", Eragon's voice broke the silence, but at the same time his words were spoken so softly that they didn't change anything about the quiet of the moment, "I have never... recognized..."

He faltered again. And now Arya in deed saw how Fírnen and Saphira exchanged a glace behind Eragon's back as he let her hands unceremoniously fall into her lab. She was surprised by the sudden cease of contact, but not as much as she was when he touched her face again. But this time he held her with both hands.

His eyes wavered with emotion. She saw tenderness. Dedication. More than she thought there was. And more sorrow than she thought there was. She pressed one of her hands above his again.

"You are more important for me than you may think", her words seemed to only enhance what she already saw in his eyes, "Even though we didn't see each other for so long... If that answers your question: I have mourned more and longer too, than you may think. And I have never again found someone like you."

His eyes closed as if in pain. The anguish Arya saw on his face was gripping her and she gave in to the urge to cease his suffering. She raised her hands and mimicked his gesture, enveloping his face firmly. She watched him as he opened his eyes again and looked at her in wonder and amazement.

"I think you might be right", he whispered softly and leaned his forehead against hers, "With what you said yesterday, I mean. Maybe what happened was supposed to be. Maybe we are indeed fated to meet again. That this is not the end..."

"No", the strength in her voice even surprised herself, "This cannot be. Not after we just met again after so long ago. Fate cannot be _this_ cruel."

"Arya?"

His voice was but a whisper.

"Yes?"

And then he said it again.

Arya's eyes slid closed even as he spoke the very first syllable. The words of the Ancient Language rolled off his tongue – fluid, mellow and sweet like warm honey and caressed her insides, her very being, with the sounds of her true name. She shivered with the force that wracked her body and mind and could only scarcely prevent the tears in her eyes from spilling over. Nothing had ever touched her as deeply as this. As her name on his lips.

They stayed like that for an even longer time, eyes locked and hands touching each others' faces.

Arya chose the better of two evil. Even though his touch felt pleasant to her, such an intimacy wasn't easy for her to handle. Yet breaking away would mean his leave-taking, this she knew deep within her, and that would be even harder to bear. The night was getting late and she knew that it couldn't be long now anymore.

And, sure enough, after what felt like only seconds, she saw a shifting deep within his eyes accompanied by a heavy sigh. In a way she felt a tad more comfortable as he lifted his hands from her face. But now the night felt cold on her skin. She wondered whether he felt the same as she took her hands away.

Synchronously they turned aside and saw a giant blue dragon standing just a feet from their place who now lowered her head to match their height.

"_The night is getting older far too quickly", _she spoke so Arya could hear her as well, and she also heard the regret in her voice, "_We should go now."_

Arya nodded, knowing that the dragon lady spoke the truth.

"_Yes... You have a long way home ahead of you..."_

Eragon stood up and as usual extended his hand to help her up. He was suddenly very quiet. And as always Arya was of the opinion that she was far too generous by accepting his gesture, but as always did so nonetheless. Meanwhile Fírnen had stepped to Arya's side and nudge her shoulder. His eyes were wide as he exchanged a long look with his Rider. Arya understood perfectly well how he felt, but couldn't do more to ease his pain than lower her hand gently onto his brow, stroking the shimmering scales there, and hoping that it would bring some comfort.

By now Eragon had wrapped himself into a thick mantle and after a last long glance, stuffed her fairth into one of his saddle bags. Then he came back to her.

She felt anguish grip her inside as she saw his eyes again. Something had died inside them this last minute and it was beyond her to change anything about that.

"You have to visit us one day, Arya. Every Rider should see the capital of our order, and you more than anyone else", a lopsided smile graced his features, even though it seemed a bit forced, "You once told me you wanted to see the home of the Riders, do you remember? Before I left for Vroengard..."

"Yes, I do... I remember this day very clearly."

She blinked as Eragon frowned in puzzlement, but Arya waved a hand to tell him not to think too much about her words. He went on.

"Yes. You really should come. The others would love to see you too, I am sure. And you have to see the Wild Ones. And Fírnen", he turned his head and now spoke directly to the dragon, "I am sure you want to meet with the rest of your family, too."

Fírnen only gave a small _puff_ at that. Arya too saw his point there.

"Yes, I would really like that", but she just had to tell him the truth, "Yet I don't know when or even if I will be able to do so... Though I would like to see the wonders of your city very much... The halls you train our younglings in, the library and all its treasures... And someone once told me about a beautiful garden. You have never said anything about that. Is it really as beautiful as I have been told?"

She couldn't help to notice that he paused deliberately before answering. There was a thoughtfulness in his eyes she found hard to interpret. Was it worry? A fleck of fear even? Or anticipation? She couldn't say.

"Yes. It is very beautiful. It was grown with lots of passion. I am sure you will enjoy the sight."

It was all of it, she then recognized. It was fearful, worried anticipation. She wondered at this, why a garden should provoke such a reaction within him. Yet her line of thought faltered and her eyelids involuntary lowered for the tiniest of moments as he again took her face between gentle hands.

"My Queen..."

A stranger wouldn't have recognized, but the soft kiss he placed upon her brow was just a little bit too gentle and lasted a little bit too long to be called formal. Arya suppressed a shudder as she felt his lips upon her skin, a feeling so unfamiliar and frightening that she couldn't say herself how she felt about it.

And again there was this day in Dras-Leona again, where their current positions had just been inverted. On this day he had told her goodbye as well.

"Until we meet again, my Queen", his hands slid from her face, but not without a last tender caress of his fingertips along her cheekbones, "Arya... May all the fortune of this world stand as your steadfast companion."

With that he finally turned from her and climbed nimbly onto his dragon's back, leaving Arya to watch his departure with all the regret she was able to feel. She watched him fastening the strings that would hold his legs in place and discovered that her own felt suddenly very cold, frozen to the ground as they were. No words left any of their lips as the blue dragon stepped closer to her after Eragon was secured onto her back.

But she met his outstretched hand before he had even finished the movement and entangled her much smaller fingers tightly with his. Eragon had to lean down a lot to reach her, considering the respectable size of his dragon.

"It won't be as long anymore", he told her in a soft tone, "That I promise you."

Arya appreciated his words with only a nod, yet let herself be reassured by a gentle squeeze of his hand. Then, he let it go.

"Have a save journey. And take care", she turned her head slightly to meet Saphira's giant sapphire eye. Arya could hear her eyelids click as the dragon lady closed it momentarily by the touch of her hand, "And you as well. Fair winds to you, Saphira. Watch out for yourself and watch out for your Rider."

"_You should know that I am always doing that", _she said playfully und dapped her tongue once against Arya's side, "_Farewell again, Arya. And mind the shadows behind your back – and within your heart."_

Saphira then turned away from her and to her companion to say her own farewells and left her words unexplained. Arya wasn't able to focus on them for now anyway.

Fírnen's and Saphira's goodbye was short and more physical than wordy. They prodded each other's necks and cheeks with their muzzles and seemed more joyous with the game than sad.

But finally both Arya and Fírnen took a few steps back as Saphira lifted her wings to prepare for taking off.

"Good-bye, Shadeslayer. We will meet again."

This were the last words she spoke to him for today. She just couldn't imagine any better anymore. She wasn't as good with words as Eragon was.

"That we will."

And with that Saphira took a leap that shook the earth underneath Arya's feet and jutted her wings so strongly that the grass was pressed flat to the ground. She rushed to the skies like an arrow and soon was a hundred feet within the air, leaving the other pair far behind and watching her departure.

Arya was startled when a mighty bellow wrung itself from Saphira's lungs accompanied by a jet of blue fire from between her jaws – and from Brisingr that shined just as brightly as Eragon held it high above his head as a last salutation.

And Fírnen answered his mate before Arya could even move a muscle. The green and blue flames painted the plains and skies in a ghostly colour. She hurried to follow his example and raised her sword Támerlein as well. Yet more she had not within her anymore, all sound was stuck hin her throat.

And she stayed like this and watched, together with her dragon, until Saphira and Eragon were just dots on the black sheet of night, illuminated from time to time when the moonlight was filtered through the white-blue membrane of an upraised wing.

_Goodbye, my friend, your presence here felt much too short for me... I hope you will be glad when you arrive at home._

Her words weren't directed towards anyone, but she was aware of her dragon's attention.

_I wished so much that life was easier. Maybe then I could dry both our tears. I wished... But I cannot._

And suddenly she was again at the shore of the Edda River, young again, just a short century of age already lived. Still so young for her race.

She felt how Fírnen pressed his forehead to her shoulderblades as her hands tightened into fists.

_I cannot. But I wish I could. I really do._

* * *

><p>Hey there,<p>

And sorry for the delay and the sad chapter... I know this is a bit like the finger in the wound.. But necessary (I am sure CP thinks the same *mpf*).

Now seriously, this chap was intended to be a kind of epilogue for the first part of my story before it had developed a life of its own and got longer and longer.. I am done now with "The Reconciliation" so to say and hope that Eragon and Arya are now at the same point where they left each other at the end of Inheritance. Well not completely... I intended Eragon to tell Arya his new true name in this here but then recognized that that would cause me some problems... The same problems as him, that's why he kept quiet for now. You will see later ;)

And I think I will have to reread inheritance again, I feel a bit far away from the characters now after more than half a year (hell was it that long...) But I am a bit scared... Maybe I will read until they defeat Galbatorix and then just lay it aside *whistles innocently*. That should do the trick ;)

(ignore it if I am talking nonsense right here now I feel a tad slap happy at the moment...)

I hope you liked this nonetheless and I really now intent to post more frequently or CP will indeed have published book V before I am done with this... I am on vacation at the end of august so you will see the next chap at the latest then.

Stay tuned and thanks and even more thanks for all the reviewers! You are awesome.

AryaNuanen


	12. Chapter 11  The City of Daybreak

They say the World was built for two – PART II

* * *

><p>A wise man once said that time is like a river. It flows ever onward, uncaring about the joys and tragedies that take place along its shore. Not even the wisest of us are able to foresee where its raging torrents will lead us, nor has anybody in this ever-shifting world the power to decide the course of that river, to rule his own fate.<p>

But sometimes, just sometimes, we who are nothing but puppets in the game of what some call destiny, some the will of the gods – sometimes we are bound to be part of something larger than our fleeting lives justify.

Sometimes, just sometimes, wonders are to happen.

* * *

><p>"Master! Master Eragon!"<p>

The yell, and a yell it was, could be heard all around the training field of the Riders. It breached the conglomerate of sounds of clashing swords and shields, of arrows and spears finding their targets. This area was always well attended in the hours of late morning.

Eragon was there as well and had just finished a lesson with one of his latest students, a very young elven girl named Imara who had been sent to him just half a year ago. Her silver locks were bouncing as she turned her head just as Eragon and her scarlet dragon Miomar did when a dwarf came running across the field. By the time he arrived at Eragon's side he was already quite out of breath.

"Master…", he panted and took a quick bow which was answered by yet a quick dip of Eragon's chin.

"Take a breath first, Ivan. You will bite your tongue."

Eragon scrutinized the struggling dwarf with interest – he seemed genuinely agitated. A rare thing for him, as Eragon knew.

"Kyle contacted me just minutes ago", Ivan's voice was still wheezy, "He told me to fetch you as he's got some astounding news for you, as he said. He said it was urgent. He seemed stressed, but didn't tell me more. He said the news were to reach your ears first."

Eragon felt his brow crease as his mind tried to untangle this mystery.

"Kyle was doing guard service tonight with his brother, didn't he?"

Now that he thought about it Eragon realized that he hadn't seen one of them at breakfast. He strode forward with determination, seemingly taking both Ivan and Imara by surprise who followed him quickly across the field.

"He will fly directly towards the main place?", Eragon asked, meaning the giant square that was the centre of the city.

"That he will. He should arrive in a few minutes", Ivan answered him, straining with his short legs to keep up with Eragon's pace.

The training people, both Riders and other inhabitants of the valley, stepped respectfully aside as Eragon crossed the field. A few dragons were present as well, but they were laying leisurely beside the sand to watch their Riders. Vast as it was, the training field was still too small to be a suitable place for fighting dragons. Eragon stopped when the three of them stepped onto the gravel of the path that led towards the inner ring of the city.

"Ivan?"

"Master?"

"Would you tend to Imara while I am gone?"

He bowed again.

"Of course. How would you want me to occupy her?"

Eragon's gaze drifted towards the young woman who awaited his decision with silent eyes.

"We will see. I haven't planned any… self-employed learning for you for today, so maybe you want to come up with a suggestion yourself? You could go reading in the library on your own, or maybe you would like to visit your horse?", he tried to speak leisurely to her as he always did. She still clung very tightly to her old culture, the reservation and formality of the Elves, and Eragon wanted her to abandon that, at least partly. He preferred openness and trust to politeness and reservation.

"I think I will do that… If it meets your approval, Master?", she spoke, her voice both reluctant and prim.

"But of course. Do what you want while I am occupied. But I want you to stay with Ivan ."

"Whatever you wish, Master Eragon", she said readily enough and lowered her head for a second, although Eragon could see her discontentment with having to stick to a floorwalker clearly on her face. It made him smile though, not angry. She was very young, but she was better to work with like this than being a coward.

They parted ways then and Eragon's mind quickly came back to the matter at hand. Striding briskly onward he thought about different scenarios that could possibly lead to what he had just heard, but none of his ideas sounded reasonable or likely. Kyle had told Ivan it was urgent… This also troubled him. Pressing matters had become so very rare in his life.

He longed to talk to Saphira and missed her comment to the thoughts running around his head, but she was away with a whole group of dragons for hunting and teaching and he didn't want to break into that as long as there was no proof for distress.

It didn't take him long to reach the square, but as he stepped out from beneath the canopy of trees and looked up he could already see the approach of Kyle and his dragon. They were flying swiftly, but to Eragon's relieve without any signs of injury or panic. Sighing with his slight indisposition Eragon tried to occupy himself with the fascinating sight of Daimja, Kyle's dragon, and her sparkling hue.

The human twins Ian and Kyle were blessed with the most interesting coloured pair of dragons. They were both blue, so to say, but whereas Daimja was so light blue that you could mistake it for white from distance, Ian's dragon lady Hetana's scales were so dark that they seemed black in contrast. And just as the twins the two dragons were sisters; they were given to the Riders from a generous dragon mother who had once offered two eggs from her clutch.

Just a short minute later the dragon dived towards earth quickly and in the bright sun of coming noon she seemed nothing but snow white with the faintest shimmer of blue. Eragon crossed his arms behind his back and widened his stance to better hold off the heavy gusts of wind coming from the translucent wings of the landing dragon and searched for her Rider's face.

Kyle slid down from her back before her frontlegs even touched the ground, his dark hair bouncing, yet there was no trace of fear in his eyes. He bowed quickly, just as his dragon lowered her head, when Eragon stepped swiftly towards them, taking their greeting with his own nod.

"Daimja, Kyle", he spoke, keeping his voice leisurely to counteract any alarm that might occur, "I am glad you are here and sound, but Ivan told me of an urgent matter. What happened out there tonight? And where is your brother?"

"Master", the other Rider began and to Eragon's astonishment his iceblue eyes sparkled with excitement, "I have the most pleasant news to bring to you. As for the whereabouts of my brother… He is waiting for your approval so to say, but he and Hetana are fine if that is what occupies your mind. What is the source of all the turbulences however…"

His voice got lower yet his smile wider and he took another step towards Eragon so he could spoke even lower:

"In the late of the night I was woken by a pair of beating dragonwings and soon enough saw a dragon crossing the mouth of the valley and coming ever closer. Ian was already up, naturally, as it was his shift. We were both wondering about a dragon flying alone so late at night when the Wild Ones usually don't leave their packs, but even more because of the direction it came from. A minute later Daimja recognized that there was a Rider sitting on the dragon's back, which was strange too, as we knew that none of us had left Minuial lately."

Kyle took a pause from his flood of words here, whereas Eragon felt his insides churn. He did his best to keep the excitement away from his face, yet could do nothing to stop his heart from beating faster, nor his fingers from twitching, as a foreboding played havoc with his mind and heart that was as sweet as it was cruel.

_This cannot be. This cannot be…_

But the smirk of joy on Ian's face told him everything.

"I think we have guests, Master, and they are waiting for your permission to enter the city this very second."

* * *

><p>Only a short hour later the main square, large as it was, was filled to overflowing with the citizens of Minuial. They all had followed Eragon's call, nearly without exceptions, and even the most occupied had left their works to greet their newcomers. And upon Eragon's exhilarating news even Saphira had managed to lead her hunting pack home in time, all hunger forgotten.<p>

Both Riders, Dragons and all the others waited patiently as they stood in lines of no set order and watched the skies. Right now an expectant silence reigned over the valley that was only broken by a hushed whisper now and then.

Eragon who stood with Saphira in front of all of them seemed just as calm. Little was visible on his face of the turmoil he felt inside.

Or of the incredible joy that hadn't left him this last hour.

"_Saphira, can you believe it? They will be here, here with us."_

Her giant pupil wandered into his direction and then she blinked lazily at him. But more than this playful baublery her trembling feelings were telling him about her own agitation.

"_I know, little one. It's wonderful."_

Smiling at his beautiful dragon lady Eragon put his hand gently onto her shoulder and gazed deeply into her sapphire eyes, revelling further in his own anticipation and simply feeling happy, just because she was happy.

Distracted like this he was more than startled when dozens of dragons behind his back suddenly roared with all their might, the noise deafening. His head whipped around just fast enough to see two dragons breaching the mountain ridge – a dark blue one and a considerably larger emerald one.

Eragon took a step forward as he eagerly watched them coming closer and Saphira followed him close on his heels. The sun broke out from behind a cloud when he stood still again and he couldn't help the wide smile from appearing on his face when Fírnen's scales sparkled with all shades of green in the gleaming light.

Nor could Saphira keep her joy for herself any longer. She waited for only a few more seconds until she was sure he could hear her and then gave her own salutations, shaking Eragon with the vibration her mighty yell caused. And this time both approaching dragons answered her, each in his very own voice and rhythm, as they were about to reach the city's borders now.

But they were still too far away, even for Eragon's keen eyes, to see the one he was looking for. He squinted hard to see farther, but wasn't able to identify more than a black dot appearing from time to time when Fírnen beat his wings down.

Yet he knew Arya was there, on her dragon's back, and maybe just as agitated as he was.

He didn't have to wait much longer though as it took them just a few short minutes to finally reach the centre of Minuial – minutes he endured with bated breath, yet were a blink of an eye compared to the time Eragon had waited to see her again.

The dragons dived for the ground when the square was underneath them, slowing down their flight by angling their wings slantwise and raising quite an amount of dust with the turbulences they caused. Fírnen and Hetana landed gracefully with their hindlegs first and made the earth tremble when their not insubstantial weight crashed upon the paved ground.

For a moment the place was filled by a strained silence while the floating dust sank down again and the two dragons folded their wings to their bodies. It was Ian then who brought movement to the scene by jumping hurriedly from Hetana's back. She followed his lead when he stepped shallowly forward to greet their Masters.

Eragon saw this only out of the corner of his eye though, his attention elsewhere.

Arya had descended from Fírnen's back before he had even been able to meet her eyes and had then vanished for a another couple of second behind her dragon's strong shoulder. Nor was she looking at him when she took a step forward into his field of vision again, but rather everywhere else and beyond him. He wasn't able to wait any longer for her to return his gaze though, because this second Ian came to a stop in front of him and took a slight bow.

"Master", the younger man began and looked carefully towards Eragon with his interesting eyes, ice-blue just like his brother's, yet so much kinder, as Eragon knew.

"Master Eragon, we led them here as you told us to", he said and waved a hand towards the two standing behind him, raising his voice, "Let me present to you Arya Dröttning and Fírnen!"

And finally Eragon had an excuse to look at them without any distractions, without disruption, because he did neither more nor less than everyone else was doing. All eyes were now on the Queen and her emerald dragon as Ian and Hetana stepped respectfully aside to let them through and to find their place among the Riders' ranks.

Arya had still been looking around, mostly towards all the other Riders and dragons it seemed to Eragon, but straightened when Ian called her name. Eragon watched curiously how she laid her hand onto Fírnen's shoulder and looked once deeply into his deep green eyes, watched her body, her face, her eyes, her lips for every small sign, forever hint that would tell him about her inner life.

Well, he couldn't say he gained much insight from his scrutiny. Her face showed a very silent, albeit friendly façade of formality.

But on the other hand it was only the very first time she really met his insistent gaze when she and Fírnen walked towards their host. She held that gaze until she came to stand in front of him, suddenly looking deeply into his eyes, yet with still a straight face, calm and detached even like a deep lake untroubled of wind and waves.

Her eyes however… her eyes were very lively he thought.

Further investigation had to wait for another time though as Eragon shook himself quickly out of his daze, realizing that the silence had lasted for a moment too long. A small smile graced his face while he touched his lips with two fingers.

He had already opened his mouth to speak the first line of the formal greeting, but Arya cut him off before he could even mutter a word and recited the line he had intended to speak a moment ago. Eragon was surprised by her intensity – he wouldn't have felt out of place by speaking first to her.

After Arya had addressed Saphira in the same manner, Fírnen started the circle again. And while Fírnen exchanged the elven greeting with Saphira, Eragon looked again at the elven Queen.

He recognized then that her appearance was clearly marked by the long journey that laid behind her. Her clothes, a fine black tunic with silver linings, still fit her shape astoundingly well, but was clearly worn out by long days on dragon back and nights laying on hard ground in the wilderness and the elements they had been exposed to on their long way. She was also wearing leather boots with legs that covered her calve up to her knee and she wore them above her trousers – for sure to protect her skin from the pressure and friction of the straps on her saddle. And her long locks were held back with a band in the back of her neck, something he had never seen before but stroke him as the only practical thing to do with long hair and the constant rush of air in flight. Considering all of this the only hint one might get that he was in presence of royalty was the fine silver tiara that graced her brow.

But as Eragon took in her appearance he realized again that she was not to be measured with such mundane aspects – just the sublime way she held her body, or turned her head, or how her eyes lit up in moments full of grace – even her way to just stand perfectly still – all these small indicators put together summed up to an incomparable total.

He had never seen someone more beautiful and regal than the figure standing in front of him. No matter what her outer appearance looked like – only the dignity of a dragon could ever hope to be compared to her vibrancy.

He watched her watching him in this short seconds of Saphira's and Fírnen's greetings and wondered again. Wondered about her and what was going on in _her_ head – and how much of what he thought she could see in his eyes. Seeing her and clearly enjoying even this first few minutes in her company already convinced him that her absence had again been far too long for him.

He took a deep breath to collect himself when the dragons were silent again and then dared to find his voice, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear, but gentle enough to let the words sound like coming from his heart.

"So – welcome. Welcome Fírnen and Queen Arya, to our home. It is about time that you too come to see the central point of our order. And I am sure I speak for all of us when I say that we are as surprised as we are elated by your visit."

She answered his words with the faintest of smiles and dipped her head for a fraction of a second to show that she accepted his welcome – and his position that went along with it.

"Just as we are, Master Eragon. And we apologize dearly for our unheralded visit, but our departure in Ellesméra required urgency."

"There is nothing to apologize", Eragon answered her and smiled gently, aware of the dozens of eyes upon them, "And I hope you are able to stay for a while?"

Arya didn't reply immediately, but turned her eyes away from him again. Eragon followed her gaze and saw that she looked rather devoutly around the city – of what she was able to see from here at least –, over the many people that came here to greet her and over the mountains and forest all around. There was wonder in her gaze for the ones who were able to read her eyes.

„We hope so too, but we will have to be patient and wait what time brings", she said and then patted Fírnen's front leg besides her, „But, speaking for ourselves, I think it would feel too short no matter how long we were to stay here with you. I can only hope that we will be able to experience at least a few things of what Minuial has to offer us."

„I am sure you will, and we will all do our best of course. And you will see that there is really more… space in this vast city than anything else."

She raised her eyebrows very slightly at his words.

"That might be your judgement alone; I am sure that it will be quite different for us, as we are outsiders."

Eragon took her comment with a rather non-committal nod, but saw the truth in her words. His line of thought was broken though as Saphira lowered her head to look at him and gave a low grunt. However, this physical actions of hers were rather meant for their audience than for him; _he_ had read her meaning obviously in her mind before she had even moved.

It was time to move on. He too had more and more recognized the increasing disquiet behind his back. Looking around towards his students, the dragons and all the other spectators, he realized that he had monopolized his friends for long enough now; he could only smile at the obvious interest and even curiosity some of them showed. Visitors were indeed a rare thing here.

"It seems you have a lot of questions and talking ahead of you, my friends", he said with a wide smile and startled some, and also Arya and Fírnen, with the address, "But your journey was long and there will be enough time for talking later. I suppose you would like to refresh yourself first?"

Arya nodded and seemed quite delighted by his proposal.

"That would be much appreciated."

Eragon turned then and looked around, his demeanour suddenly businesslike.

"Serana?"

A middle-aged human woman answered his call and stepped forward, curtsying shortly. She was looking quite stern and seemingly untouched by the day's solemnity, dutiful as ever. She was the housekeeper of Minuial, or rather the supervisor of Minuial's housekeepers, and that she had been since the day she dwelled in the Riders' city. A silly accident had made her a widow in Alagaësia when she had been younger, but only months later fate had granted her a gleam of hope again when her only son had been chosen by a dragon hatchling.

"Are her rooms ready for her to move in?", Eragon asked her with both authority and kindness swinging in his voice. Serana then curtsied again, and again only shortly, as though she could hardly allow herself such a submissive gesture.

"Of course, Master Eragon."

"Very good. And regards for your fast and helping hands, Serana", with that he turned to face the most important persons of the day again, "Would you two please follow me then, I will bring you to your dwelling place. It is not far."

Arya answered him with a curt nod at first, but before long a lazy smile crept onto her face.

"Of course, Master Eragon…"

Eragon was sure he was the only one who saw the cheeky gleam appearing in the depth of her eyes and had to fight very hard to keep a straight face. And even more so when Saphira in her own amusement puffed out a large plume of smoke right beside his head. Just to distract himself he looked again at his waiting audience.

"You can go back to your former engagement. I will announce the further course of action when I have thought about it myself."

With his words the accumulation of bodies within the square started to thin out, but only slightly so. More than half of them lingered far longer than necessary or walked only very reluctantly back to their own business. And more than one followed Eragon, Saphira, Arya and Fírnen when they walked deeper into the city.

"_Hmpf", _Saphira snorted both with her mind and her nostrils, "_If they would only just once do what you told them to... Just once…"_

Eragon chuckled quietly at her and grimaced playfully.

"_You cannot expect too much of them, Saphira."_

"_Look at how they are staring at them, as though they had never seen them before…"_

"_Well, they haven't seen them for quite a while. And many of those who are no Riders indeed have never seen Arya or Fírnen before."_

He looked aside to the two he had spoken off. Right now they crossed the very centre of the main square and Arya as well as Fírnen looked intently to the gurgling fountain that marked that centre.

It was a beautiful thing, created long ago by an elf of Eragon's former guard; it showed – as one might expect – two dragons carved out of shining marble, one of green marble, the other stone a creamy yellow colour. Contours were outlined with nacre and their eyes were sparkling gemstones – two emeralds, two citrines. The two dragons entwined around each other, necks, tails and claws were wrapped or reached towards the other, but never touched. Their jaws were opened widely, exposing their jewel-like fangs, but instead of fire two fountains of water tumbled harmlessly from their throats, high in the air and back into the pond underneath.

Eragon was glad to see their visitors' eyes shining with real interest. He already looked forward to show them around the valley.

"_Nevertheless they are cutting in on our… togetherness", _Saphira brought him back to their former conversation, "_I haven't even really greeted him…"_

She looked longingly at the green dragon at her side and snorted in what seemed to be a sigh.

"_You will have plenty of time together now, don't worry."_

"_Hmm…"_

But her remark was left unanswered as Eragon came to a halt in front of a giant building of white stone with a grand double-winged door and pillars at both sides of it. He waited patiently for Arya and her dragon to catch up as they had been slowed down by the few who were still following them to give a short greeting to the Queen at least. It didn't take long though, and then she suddenly was standing by his side.

_Which still is a strange thing for now_, he noticed as he looked into her eyes again,_ a presence you experience with all your senses, yet still feels so surreal that you hardly can believe your own eyes._

He took a deep breath and then spoke on.

"So, this is where usually our novices and younger Riders are living. At the moment some of the older ones are living here too though, simply because there is enough space for now. And our – rare – guests of course."

Arya took in the sight in front of her while he spoke and then let her gaze drift once more around the vast square behind them. When she turned to her companion again, her eyes were wide and vibrant.

"It is beautiful, Eragon."

"Hm, you are so sure of that, considering that you haven't seen much for now?", he said but smiled at her even while speaking.

Arya shrugged her shoulders, ignoring his jesting around.

"The few things I saw for now are beautiful at least…"

"That they are for sure…", Eragon agreed, looking past her for a moment to the fountain a few hundred yards behind them. It was one of his most favourite artworks too, "But I am stealing your time, I am sure you need some rest… Fírnen, I would suggest you better look for a place for yourself in the mountains, this hall was built with a dragon's size in mind indeed, but rather with that of younger dragons. It might be a bit small – and uncomfortable too, as you would have to stay in the common room where all the house's inhabitants are passing by."

Eragon had intentionally spoken to him with his voice, not his mind, as it was considered rude to touch another Rider's dragon without a clear prompt to do so. He had no problem at all though to open his own mind to the other male when he pressed his consciousness against his.

"_You are speaking reason, Eragon. So, where am I to go then?"_

"_You can choose a dwelling on your own", _Eragon spoke to him and lifted his hand, pointing at the mountain ridge that could be seen behind the city, "_There are caves of every size and shape all around the mountains in this valley. Feel free to choose one of the uninhabited ones as your own."_

"_I can show you around if you want to", _Saphira butted in and without warning nipped Fírnen sharply at the base of his neck, eliciting a startled grunt from him, "_Come on!"_

She took wing without further words and Eragon was so very glad for the elation she felt, the pure happiness at having her partner back.

"Wait."

Eragon heard Arya mutter this single word and concentrated his attention back to her as she stepped to her dragon's side. Fírnen had already lifted his wings and now whipped his head around in clear impatience, eager to be gone and at Saphira's side again. And Arya clearly hurried to unsaddle him, opening straps and buckles with practiced ease.

And her dragon jumped into the air as soon as she pulled the saddle from his back, shaking them with the wind coming from his wings. He was out of sight within mere seconds. Eragon chuckled softly and took a step closer to Arya.

"It is always nice to experience delight such as this, isn't it?", he asked with a low voice, knowing that Arya would understand his meaning.

"That it is…", she answered and still looked into the direction the dragons had disappeared.

"Let's go?", Eragon asked, looking questioningly at her and fighting the urge to help her carrying the heavy saddle. He knew she wouldn't want his help there.

Arya gave her agreement and so Eragon entered the large building. They stepped side by side through the double door and into the formerly mentioned common room – a common room for both Riders and dragons: On the one side of the room seating was provided by a long table as well as by various armchairs that where standing around a fire place, yet the other side of the room was clearly made for dragons: There were some large, soft cushions in different sizes and moulds in the ground filled with blankets for the young scaly inhabitants of the apartments.

But Eragon and Arya headed to the very left side of the large room where a staircase led to the upper floors. Their way wasn't a very long one; once reaching the top of the staircase Eragon led Arya left again into another wing of the building. They walked along an aisle which was draped with heavy tapestries of all colours, forms and themes, yet still somehow fit together, and with many doors to both the right and left.

Here Eragon walked on till they reached the end of the corridor and then stepped aside to let Arya through. She though stopped outside the door in front of her, placing Fírnen's saddle gently onto the ground and looked then back at him. For a moment it seemed she wanted to say something, but then apparently decided otherwise and remained silent.

"This will be your room during your stay", Eragon broke the silence with determination, "If it appeals to you of course. You should find everything you need inside, but don't hesitate to ask if it were otherwise."

"I am sure it will be fine."

A small gap stretched itself in between their conversation again and Eragon was sure he wasn't imagining things when he felt the atmosphere around him changing suddenly. He could feel the tension of the silence in the air like a living being floating around and through them and felt vulnerable suddenly, as he stood there and searched for something in her eyes, remembering what they had once been talking about. Taking a deep breath he looked around and listened hard, but couldn't hear nor see any intruders. Then he looked back at her.

"Arya…", his voice was very low now, "You came… You really came."

The smile his words brought onto her face was faint, but it was very gentle as well.

"Do you have only so little faith in me to be so surprised? I told you I would come, didn't I?"

"No. No, you said you would _try."_

She thought for a moment and then dipped her head once in a sharp, fluid movement that was very elfish. The thought amused him.

"You are right… Well, I did try as you see."

He snorted softly.

"Obviously. It is just… I know you really _wanted_ to visit, but I just never could make myself believe that you would actually take the risk of leaving, that you would ever dare to leave them…"

„It was a tough decision for me, that it was. A decision I had to fight for – some of my counsellors opposed me sharply, but we had a very easy year for now and so I thought, well, now or never", she allowed herself a small grin, "And of course Fírnen pressed me, too."

That made Eragon chuckle. He knew quite something about the determination of a dragon.

"And let me apologize again for taking you by surprise like that. I know what such… irregularities are doing to the order of any establishment. But when the moment came I had to decide quickly whether to leave or not. Any omission sent would have been much slower than me."

Eragon shook his head soothingly.

"I understand completely, don't let it trouble you. You did nothing but unexpectedly lighten my day."

She took the compliment silently, but knowing her the way he did, Eragon saw the tender satisfaction that softened her features. He decided upon this discovery then and carefully reached out, first brushing his fingertips slightly against the back of her hand and, when she didn't reject him, took her hand gently into his. His gaze, that had been locked onto their now intertwined hands, met her face again when he heard her taking a deep breath. She seemed not stressed by his advances though, maybe a little tired, but he accredited that to her long journey. But in contrast her eyes were quite awake, awake and searching. And finding, of that he was sure.

"It has again been far too long…", he voiced his former thought, sobering because he didn't know how to help this predicament.

Two years, not much for none of them, had again passed by in a blur.

"It hadn't been _this_ long this time… Just as you had promised me."

Her words lightened his mood. It felt good to know that she remembered things like this – it felt good to know that she cared. And she was right after all: It hadn't been as long as before, not in the slightest, and in the two years that had passed since his stay in Ellesméra they had kept close contact. As close as possible at least. They had been talking frequently through magic mirrors, both about matters between sovereigns as well as friends. And they had never stopped to send small grass-boats on their way of course. This time there were no gaps left to fill.

Smiling at the whole situation he squeezed her hand gently, reacquainting his body with the feeling. She smiled too when she returned the gesture.

"You came…", he whispered again, trying to make himself believe what should have been so clear to his eyes.

"Yes", Arya replied with a smile in her voice and enveloped his hand with her other one too, "And I will stay as long as I can…"

Eragon nodded, not wanting to think about her looming departure for now, and stared thoughtfully at their three hands.

"I had an idea", he began, "When you feel ready, I thought, maybe you would like to go sightseeing for the rest of the day?"

His tone had lightened up considerably and he hoped dearly Arya would go along with that as well.

"Yes, I would like that very much."

"Unless you would like to rest or eat something first?", he asked, careful not to forget about her needs.

"No", she shook her head, "I just ate the rest of my supplies while waiting outside of Minuial. That will do for now."

"Alright. How long do you think you will need? I would like to fetch you myself."

She looked aside for a second, thinking, but shrugged her shoulders as a result.

"Whatever is best for you. Maybe two hours?"

"Wonderful", Eragon replied and gave a last slight pressure to her hand before letting go, "I will leave you alone now; I have kept you long enough from some peace."

He stepped back and watched Arya opening the door. She looked back at him though, before stepping inside.

"I guess I will see you later then…"

"Yes", he hesitated for a very small moment, "Arya… I am very glad that you are here. It feels good to see you again."

And she smiled at him, maybe the most prominent smile he had received today, and her tilting voice spoke very softly now.

"I am glad too, Eragon. Very glad."

With these last words she vanished behind the shining wooden door, leaving him staring at the same for a moment, but not without comfort.

No. At the moment he felt very hopeful.

* * *

><p>During her life Arya had lived in many places – in some for years, in others just for a night. Therefore she was used to live and sleep in foreign surroundings and would have been able to deal with quite everything she was exposed to. But this time there was nothing to cope with or to endure.<p>

In her room in Minuial it didn't even take her five minutes to know that she would feel comfortable in there.

The apartment was not overly large, but the centred parlour alone allowed by far enough legroom, even for a nimble elf. Two doors led out of that room, one to the very left, one to the very right, leading into the equally generous bath- and bedroom. The furniture was modest – she did have everything she needed to have a comfortable life in there, but nothing more. She had enough space to store her belongings, she had a bathroom for herself, a soft bed and a cosy couch in her living room, but nothing of that bragged with gratuitous luxury or gaudiness: The cushions were thick, but not covered by velvet or satin; wood and other materials had been treated masterfully by their manufacturers, but were chosen by their sustainability, not their looks; there were works of art placed subtly all around the room, but there were no picture frames of gold or sculptures made of gemstones.

She knew this kind of chaste elegance and the soft forms of and within the buildings from her own home and felt immediately at ease, even though the houses here were made of stone of course, not of living wood.

And right now she was enjoying the benefit of another feature that met her approval. She also had a balcony.

It allowed her a nice view of the hindmost part of the city where she hasn't been yet. Apparently she now lived at the very end of Minuial, for there was only one more building in this direction. Beyond a wide lawn and halfway hidden behind the first trees of the close forest she could only see parts of a small house with a seemingly broad paved place at the side. She didn't know what or whose house it was, but was sure she would be enlightened as soon as Eragon showed her around. But she guessed that it was his.

For now she was just glad for the break Eragon had offered her and, after looking around her room, now allowed herself a few minutes of peace. She sat in a comfortable rocking chair on the said balcony and greedily took in the impressions of her surroundings, the luscious colour of the grass, the wandering of the clouds in the skies, the muffled conversations of the people that were walking on the street below, the sparkling hues of the dragons that accompanied some of them and even more… All the while she was listening to Fírnen in the very back of her mind who had just chosen a cave in the mountains and now investigated it thoroughly.

He and the low conversation he had with Saphira occupied her for a another while, but it didn't take long and she gave in to the tender melody of the summer wind in the trees and the soothing warmth of the sun on her skin. Taking a deep breath, she felt a profound ease taking over and submitted to it, leaning her head back against the cushion of the chair, her eye lids dropping till she could hardly see the clouds passing by anymore. Their way had indeed been long, longer than any journey she had undertaken for quite a while. She wasn't used to that much travelling anymore.

"_Still awake?", _a voice asked her from within the crevices of her mind, making her smile, "_You wouldn't want to fall asleep right now, Arya, there is not so much time left. Or do you want me to tell Saphira that you would rather want to rest for the remainder of the day? You will have enough time for a look around later."_

"_No. No, I am fine. I will feel better soon, just give me a few minutes. And a bath maybe…"_

"_If you say so… I see you are fine with your dwelling, so am I. Quite good service here, don't you think so?"_

"_Yes, that it is. But still…", _she opened her eyes now, again looking around at the city beneath her balcony, "_It is so different as well..."_

"_What do you mean?", _Fírnen's bewilderment was obvious and through their connection Arya felt him wondering about what should surprise her, since they had already seen pictures of the city.

"_It is hard to put into words. But it is one thing to see a picture of something and quite another to suddenly stand right in the middle of it. There is so much… _more_ to this city than I thought. Everything is done so very well, so elegant, so rich, so very beautiful… Creating something useful or necessary is sometimes hard enough, but to wrap it up into a sightly form is even harder. I am impressed by what Eragon and all the others had built up here. It is quite an accomplishment and one hundred years are not so much time to raise a functioning, healthy society either."_

"_I see your point", _her dragon agreed to her, seemingly left for some rest by Saphira too. He now curled up onto the ground and began to gnaw at a half deer cadaver Saphira had brought especially for him from her former hunt, "_I am anxious as well, to see more of it."_

Arya chose not to answer with spoken words to that, sensing that he now concentrated more on his food anyway, but only sent the feeling of an undefined agreement to him through their link.

Left to her own thoughts again, her mind began to wander elsewhere. Starting from where her conversation with Fírnen had ended, her mind circled around the expectations and hopes she had, the reasons why she had finally decided to take the responsibility upon herself to leave Ellesméra, the antagonism she was exposed to when she had announced her decision to her council…

"_Arya…", _her dragon's voice tore her from her reverie, "_Let it rest. You have bothered yourself with this all the way here, wasn't that enough?"_

She sighed – and decided to better not answer his question directly – but rather voiced her own doubts again.

"_We did the right thing to come here, Fírnen, didn't we? As glad I am to be here, just as anxious I am for something to go amiss…"_

She had been warned. Warned or threatened or something in between, she was not sure. Her mind rushed back, back to an afternoon now nearly three weeks ago…

"_My Queen…", his voiced reached her as she was already on her way to her own rooms, nearly fleeing from the arduous last hours in Tialdarí-Hall. She stopped and turned towards her follower, very careful to make a straight face and not to look as exasperated as she felt. She met his stern eyes with determination – she had already made her position clear._

"_Do not try to persuade me, Däthedr. You heard what I said before. I made my decision."_

"_I heard you", he said just as curtly, "And I will respect it of course if you stay adamant in this. I only want to ensure that you are sure of what you are doing."_

"_Of course I am", she couldn't keep the slight frown from appearing on her face this time._

"_You will be long gone. What if there is a pressing matter? I can only decide for you so far, my Queen."_

"_I am sure you will act wisely. And I won't vanish – you can contact me whenever there is need."_

_Arya knew that she was quite brusque with him right now and also that she, even as Queen, couldn't allow herself much more, but as he clearly was _not_ respecting her decision and after hours of debating about the same matter she now was tired to repeat herself any more. _

_She could still see the antagonism on his face when she opened the sliding door to her private rooms._

"_I will leave early in the morning. Do not trouble yourself with goodbyes."_

"_Whatever my Queen wishes", he finally said and bowed swiftly._

_Arya felt relieved that she didn't encounter any more contradiction and so bowed her head in what she thought a gracious gesture. Then she stepped into her room, leaving Däthedr and the whole plight behind. She walked to her writing desk to finally set free what she had imprisoned in one of the drawers before. Carefully pulling at the knob she waited for the tiny object to float out and caught it when it made its first tumbling move towards her._

_His latest grassboat had just found her before the meeting had begun and now she was eager to investigate its content, quickly retrieving the curled paper from within the ship's womb._

"_A curious way to sent letters."_

_She froze when she heard that voice again, ringing to her from the door she had left ajar behind her. Her head whipped around and she felt even herself the tight mask on her face. No matter that she usually considered him a friend she now was really angry at him. He had argued the most fiercely against her in the council. _

"_How I decide to send my letters and to whom is my business alone, Däthedr."_

"_Naturally", he retorted, angling his head slightly, "Just as traversing miles and miles for an idle visit is."_

"_Däthedr, you are overstepping your lines."_

"_Forgive me. I am only worried. You might take a decision you might regret."_

"_That I will not", she worked hard not to take deep breath to steady herself; he would have seen that. It was quite some time ago that she had been this angry, but knew on the other hand that nothing of this was visible on her face, "I am just as much a Dragonrider as I am a queen. I have kept myself away from them for long enough now."_

_A pause only answered her words, but she could clearly see that his eyes wandered to the letter in her hand – and to the little boat she pressed against her body to keep it from flying away._

"_When you are sure that this is the reason for your visit…"_

Even know the memory of that conversation made her angry.

"_Arya."_

Fírnen's voice was ringing through her head, his sudden presence a comfort itself.

"_Do not let that pull you down. We are through with the issue; we are here after all."_

"_He has never been so… intensive before. I am still not sure what his problem was."_

"_He was scared, I am sure. Scared that you would like it here too much."_

She involuntary shrugged her shoulders, even though she knew that Fírnen couldn't see her, but maybe the corresponding feeling would reach him nonetheless.

"_I thought about that too. But he should – especially he – should know me well enough to know that I would never neglect my duties as queen this easily."_

"_Nobody said "easily". And I am not sure what Däthedr thinks of Eragon. Maybe he is scared that he could lull you into staying."_

"_What difference makes that? Däthedr should still trust me with my obligation. What difference should Eragon make there?"_

"_His affections had been clear in the past. Maybe Däthedr knows about them. And Däthedr is one of these elves that still cannot trust in humans. Maybe he is doubting… the purity of Eragon's intentions."_

"_He should not. Eragon never gave him a reason for something like that", _but she saw the inklings of truth in Fírnen's words. Trust had never been a forte of Däthedr's, "_And Däthedr had never acted like that before… At least not before the last Agaetí Blödhren."_

"_Exactly. I don't know of course, but maybe he had just never counted Eragon as a worthy opponent before. And the heart is a powerful thing, more powerful than we sometimes dare to admit. We all know that. Even Däthedr. I am sure he was scared to lose you – as queen for sure, and maybe in another way as well."_

She frowned at him – mentally and physically – when he said this. The concept was ridiculous.

"_If that is true, then his fears are for nothing – as well as this whole debate has been."_

"_Are you really, really sure about that?", _there was mischief clear Fírnen's mind.

"_Of course."_

And his sigh now was even clearer.

"_How very unfortunate. I like it here…"_

"_Fírnen…", _she retorted, not without rolling her eyes.

* * *

><p>Hey there, I am back again ;)<p>

I had to delay my vacation for a week, that's why I am a bit late again… Sorry. But, haha, fortunately (for you and this fanfic) I will only have one last tournament next Saturday and then I will have a lot, lot more time to write at the weekends…

So, I hope you liked this first chappie of Minuial, I am not so sure about the next one, it will be Eragon's sighseeing tour and might be a bit dry. But I must say, personally I am quite a fancier of descriptive scenes from time to time. It makes the story so… real when you once made the effort to really picture the surroundings, like I did with Arya's apartment f.e.

Another interesting thing I think is within the welcoming-scene. Have you recognized? I stumbled upon it whenever I reread this chap and found it quite curious – but fitting – what a contrast there is between Eragon's thoughts and scrutiny of Arya and the first words he spoke to her. The thoughts were so intimate, and his greeting so formal… But I think it shows very good how deep the feelings within can be, even if the outer form/behavious/etc. is quite different…

So I will stop this now and rather thank you so,so,so,so much for all the amazing reviews, really. Thanks for all the comforting words! (And keep it going like this!)

Hope I will see you soon again,

AryaNuanen


	13. Chapter 12 - The very first Day of Fate

And again a day went by in Minuial, a warm summer day unburdened by clouds or rain. A day as Eragon had lived them through so many thousand times before. A day he had seen the same places, the same faces, the same landscape as every day. He was at home.

Yet on the other hand today had been a very different day – for he hadn't been alone today.

And right now, in the late afternoon of said day, he looked towards the setting sun, the blazing red disk that was just about to touch the black shadows of the mountain range at the mouth of the valley. He looked towards the stunning rays of light, squinting slightly by the brightness that pricked his eyes, but what he really saw were not the coloured skies, not the majestic peaks or the dyed tree leaves swaying in the wind.

He had no eyes for things mundane as these – only for the creature that sat right beside him and both outshined and mirrored the fabulous beauty of nature all around.

For Arya was right at his side, sitting with him on a small wooden bench from where they could overlook the city and the valley. Eragon watched her as she watched the sunset and marvelled at the glittering lights in her hair, the warm shadows on her skin. She seemed relaxed, he thought, the way she just listened to the sounds of the evening, her gaze dwelling in the distance.

Their conversation had broke off – unforced – just minutes after they had stopped here in this heightened avenue not too far from the city's centre, both of them eager for a few moments of silence. It had been a long day for both of them – though Eragon knew that her day had been considerably longer even.

"Arya?", he addressed her carefully as not to startle her, "Are you still with me?"

She turned her head slowly back, took him in for a moment and the small smile that he felt building on his face. The bright orange light now encircled her face and gave her skin a rosy tinge. The contrast of her curious emerald eyes to that light was stunning and confusing and Eragon found himself staring at her for a little while longer. In that time a lazy smile began to grace her lips, too.

"Excuse me…", she but murmured, "My thoughts had been elsewhere… You gave me a lot to think about this afternoon."

And indeed, he had.

He had spent the whole remainder of the day with her and let her in on the myriads of both small and big secrets of his city.

* * *

><p>They had started not far from her own dwelling.<p>

He showed her the quarters just on the other side of the great centre court, where both Riders and others were living together in a large building that mirrored the one she dwelled in. But also many smaller houses had been built in this quarter, mostly by older Riders who preferred to stay on their own or a family that came together with their daughter or son to live with him or her in the valley of Dragons. Here each house had a personal touch to it, manifested in one or another detail that hinted gently at the owner's mind and taste and their background, yet still fit into the city's greater picture. He noticed Arya's positive surprise at seeing people from all races living so close and yet peacefully together and how they apparently seemed to melt into the larger concept of the Riders' society without losing their own.

He also showed her some of the smaller facilities – a bath house for general use, a music hall both for lessons and concerts, and the forge. Of the last one is to say that of course at least half of the heated brick building was filled with dwarves. They didn't wear any crests hinting to their clans anymore – a part of becoming a Rider was to abandon bonds of old as this was the only way the members of the Order were able to become true equals. Eragon told Arya of this, but admitted under his breath that he knew that many of them still stuck to their old traditions in a way – most of the dwarves in the forge descended from Dûrgrimst Ingeitum.

By the time they stepped out onto the broad cobbled main way again the sun stood already at its zenith. They crossed the plaza for yet another time, now traversing it lengthwise. The city's arrangement was quite simple – Eragon spoke to Arya of this as he headed with her to one of his most favourite places.

The valley was vast, yes, but as every public institution was made for both Riders _and _Dragons, the buildings, streets and places were even vaster. Correspondingly there was hardly any place for several constructions to stand in a row and so the houses and halls were mostly built in parallel along the main way. This allowed one to reach quite every place within the city swiftly and directly. Only the personal dwellings stood more nested in the outskirts close to the woods.

Correspondingly it took them no more than a few minutes to reach a building made of white, nearly veinless marble and with four pillars enlaced with enamel Lianí vines guarding its gate. It was the library.

But "library" was by far a word too common, too modest, to give credit to the treasures of wisdom and beauty that hid inside of it. One could even see it and believe that there could never be even a day of history or a single line of poetry that you couldn't find in its thousands of scrolls, books and plates.

Arya and Eragon spent hours in quiet rooms where dark wood framed the walls, the stairs and covered the floor, shining lusciously and warm in the sunlight coming in from large windows. Their speech was rare and only whispered, but silent fascination was visible in Arya's eyes when they greeted scholars, writers and chroniclers alike whose immense task was to keep the library's order and growth alive.

They also visited the rooms for teaching and learning. The studies were situated in a side wing so that the young Riders' Dragons were able to join the lessons. These sometimes took place in classes, sometimes with just one youngling present, depending on subject and issue. Here they learned arts and humanities, the theory of creation and design and what had driven great people to create even greater things. And of course there were practical lessons too – but these were not held in the library directly.

A former extension – now a huge building on its own – was linked to the main building by an elegant, even fragile looking footbridge. It was made of white stone as well, but was roofed with coloured glass so that the beautiful motive, a whirl of stylized leaves and symbols, was projected onto the neatly colourless surface of the floor when the sun was shining. The sight was so intriguing and the trick so masterfully and precisely done that it took Arya thrice the time it took Eragon to cross the few yards to the next door. But the bridge was just the beginning, even though it was a worthy introduction to what lied behind the tigerwood door at its end.

At first this place had only been intended as a properly equipped workroom for the practical lessons in arts as it was convenient to have these close to the classrooms in the library. Nothing of that had changed, the old workrooms still existed there and not only for the apprentices of the Riders, but for everyone in the community who desired to improve his skills, whether it be about drawing, painting, carving or some other kind of artistry. But over time these rooms gained another function as well – at first only the clumsy and inconsequent works of the students were kept in inornate shelves, yet as time went by other works of art joined them, works from older, more experienced Riders, works from masters from all races that settled in Minuial with their children, works that were presented to the Riders and so on…

It was the beginning of what was now Minuial's gallery of arts.

Eragon and Arya spent another hour in its colourful walls, a time span that only allowed a short tour around the intelligently illuminated artworks. Eragon gave comments to the most significant pieces, but didn't linger too long, arguing that in order to really gain the right impression of all of them one needed more quiet and considerably more time than they had, and probably the peace of solitude as well. But still the time seemed much too short for Arya what she told him when they left again. She seemed to be more than interested in the accomplishments of the citizens' minds and hands. One painting had especially pricked her imagination.

"You are welcome to come here to see and feel whenever you wish and stay as long as you want, Arya, as we all are. Nobody is ever banned from here", Eragon told her gently and seemed to please her greatly with it.

To Arya's surprise they skipped the neighbouring building, the dining and festival hall, as she would see enough of it in the evening. They crossed the main way again instead, walking towards the first building one comes across when entering Minuial and certainly one of its largest. It was also one of the most irregular so to say - even from the street you could see that there were many wings, side entrances and other indentations.

The entrance hall and its gate alone were large enough to host some of the oldest dragons. The interior design seemed sterner and more elegant than in most of the other buildings and darker colours dominated the floor and walls without looking gloomy, thanks to the generous illumination. The gaps already seen from the outside soon turned out to be the entrances to vast corridors or windows or even vast vitreous walls as became visible when they explored its insides. They allowed the dragons to see into most of the rooms to examine the works that were done here.

Eragon led Arya through many departments, departments where people from all races were working together at solving the problems they faced. This multiracial workgroups were especially encouraged, Eragon told her, even though it was obvious that the interests and traditions of the different races of Alagaësia did a lot to tip the scales when it came to that distribution. It was also obvious that Elves were seen mostly everywhere.

Because in this largest of all halls research and science was done – research and science of all and everything it seemed. The people there tried to unravel the riddles of nature: Some tried to understand the elements and the chemicals and how they reacted and related to each other; others studied biology, working both with animals and the function of their bodies as well as with the tiniest of beings, the little spots of live that once only a magician was able to see and feel all around him, or with the relations between all living creatures and their ancestry; and yet again others tried to understand the cycles of the sun, the moon and the stars and all the _space _that was around the earth; many of them were also devoted healers, who learned and taught together to better service the sick, studying the finest functions of a body and what medicine or drugs – or magic – could help it to heal and stay healthy.

Understandably Eragon and Arya stayed there many hours, all afternoon even till the sun was already descending quickly, but just as with the gallery this time wasn't at all enough. But, just as with the gallery, Arya was invited from everyone to come again and look more closely at the working fields and investigations of all of them. She accepted all of their offers eagerly, with curiosity and wonder obvious in her face – at least for the ones who were able to see. She also promised to bring her dragon with her next time as she had been asked from many. Saphira and Fírnen had decided to do their own tour around the valley, looking for the more "dragon-related" sights, even though both of them stayed close to their partners' minds and listened and looked at many things their two-legged did.

Arya laughed softly when Eragon mentioned that some extensions were planned at the laboratories while stepping down the front stairs of said place. It was indeed literally bursting at the seams, but it seemed to sound just ridiculous that there was any more space needed, considering the unbelievable size of the building.

Only a short time later Eragon and Arya walked again under the open sky, still talking about the many fascinating things they had seen, and Eragon led her towards a small wooden bench from where you can overlook the valley and city very nicely.

* * *

><p>"Yes, indeed a lot to see and even more to think about…", he agreed with her, smiling lazily into the vanishing sun without looking at her, "It was a long if pleasant day. You must be tired."<p>

But when he met her eyes again she was already watching him, and she didn't look tired at all.

"Yes, and no", she said swaying her head slowly with the two options, "I can feel the long way in my limbs and my head, but all you have shown me was far too interesting to let tiredness arise anymore than that. I am fine."

"And still… We have seen a lot, but we also skipped a lot. Anyway, I would leave it to that today… We will visit the training fields tomorrow, and for sure you will see the dining hall tonight – our meals will be ready in another hour. We can go there and wait if you want to. Unless of course…"

He smirked and blinked at her.

"Unless you have another wish?"

She returned his smile, falling easily into his joyfulness. Eragon was glad that she was well enough to banter around like this. It wasn't always like that for her.

"I have", her tone was light, her voice hushed and she leaned slightly closer to him, "Where are _you_ living?"

After a moment of silence he just had to begin to chuckle. He hadn't expected _that._

"Well", he said with laughter still in his voice and stood up nimbly, "So come on."

And of course she followed him, followed him down the slight descent from the heightened alleyway till they followed a path that ran parallel to the main street. Eragon hadn't chosen this path by chance – as the main way was designed more practical, broad and cobbled, what could be translated as well to "wide enough for many dragons and sturdy enough for many dragons", this path up here, as many places in the city, was more a treat for the eyes.

He watched happily how Arya took in their surroundings, how she admired the colourful flowerbeds and the trees that were planted here and there on dots of green grass within the pavement. There were large trees even, large enough to be higher than many of the surrounding homes, high enough to touch the stone gently with their shadows. High enough to watch the rustling leaves swaying in the wind if you look out of your window.

It was a delight for him, seeing her reactions, her approval and even fascination. It had been like that all day. He had seen some things that were daily work for him and other things that he saw rarely here too, because they didn't fall into his direct responsibility, but nothing was a surprise or new to him. But still… As he saw them through _her_ eyes, he suddenly was able to see again the accomplishments behind the routine he knew only too well. And suddenly even things most ordinary to him had again gained beauty and novelty. It was pure delight. Pure.

They spent most of the way in silence. They had talked so much already today that experiencing, enjoying, was enough for now. And Eragon still followed her eyes, how she right now took in a bed of flowers that glowed yellowish in the evening's light and apparently were treated with magic, even if decently.

"These are nicely done", Arya said and stopped shortly. To Eragon's surprise she kneeled down swiftly and touched the underside of the shining blossoms with gentle fingers. The light emitting from the flowers bathed her skin in an eerie neon shine, "I haven't seen much plants here altered with magic, less than in Du Weldenvarden."

She said that straight, without asking directly or judging what she wondered about, but Eragon understood her question and appreciated her careful way of asking.

"Yes. There are not many things that are so obviously altered, yet many that have small, gentle spells upon them. Mostly spells to help their growth and their health or the blossoms to grow with strong colours, things like that. I prefer to be… careful… when it comes to inflicting magic upon living things. Of course it is not forbidden, but I and some others are watching over this particular branch of magic very closely and we are teaching our students likewise."

Arya brow had creased into a frown while she listened to him, a frown that didn't cease when she stood up again. Eragon understood her reaction. He had never been an antagonist of the use of magic before as so many others had been, and he wasn't now either, but to Arya it must have sounded like that.

"Come on. We have to be on our way or we will be late for dinner."

She nodded, even if still a bit staggered, but followed him further along the path.

"This decision… to minimize the use of magic on objects or even living things, it is a conclusion I made coming from experience as well as my personal attitude. First of all: I do not want here to happen what happened in Vroengard. It is the best example of what horrible things you can unleash when you do not know what you do, or if you do not care, or if you neglect to keep hold onto your spells. We have many inexperienced, young magicians here, magicians that are strengthened by their dragons as well, and I do not want to have too many maybe misplaced spells working inside earth, air, water or vegetation. Who can say how these would combine or how they would work a hundred years from now? No. This is too much a risk just for having a few more kinds of flowers. The usual – the natural ones – are beautiful enough for all of us, I think."

She had listened carefully to him with guarded eyes, but Eragon could tell that her gaze cleared and that understanding replaced her puzzlement.

"I see… Forgive my doubts. I shouldn't have."

Now it was his time to frown, but playfully.

"You didn't say anything at all, did you?"

She didn't laugh with him though.

"I had the impression of late that I do not have to say anything anymore for you to understand me. Or am I wrong with that?"

It took him a few seconds to realize that they suddenly stood still again, looking at each other, not quite uncomfortable, but not comfortable either. It took him a few more seconds to take a breath and answer her.

"No, you don't have to. At least I don't think you have to."

He saw her eyes. He watched the deep emerald of her irises and he saw how they softened, how her face relaxed. And he saw how one corner of her beautiful rosy lips twitched upward just the very tiniest bit. Looking around swiftly he ensured their privacy and then gave finally in to the urge that had plagued him all day.

He reached out and very gentle intertwined his fingers with hers.

For all this time they had been walking around the city, all this time he had spoken to her, had been so very close to her – in all this time there had never been a single moment he hadn't desired to touch her.

And as his fingers now were entangled with hers he found delight in the warmth of her flesh, the soft texture of her skin. The sweetness of the moment. This closeness to be cherished.

Eragon took another deep breath and drank it deep.

He wouldn't have known what to say or what to do next, nor did Arya ever move, but only watched him as he did, silently yet deeply. And her fingers tightened around his.

He was freed of making any decisions though, as a heavy humming disturbed them, making them both flinch and searching for the source of the noise.

A fat bumblebee fluttered closer to them and decided impertinently to took a seat upon Eragon's right forearm. They both watched the creature curiously while it stumbled a bit disorientedly through the creases of Eragon's jerkin. The tense moment between them was broken though, yet the resurfacing easiness didn't disturb their feeling of togetherness.

Eragon chuckled and lifted his arm, letting go of her hand with the motion. He drew his arm closer to his face, scrutinized the buzzing insect for another second and then blew gently onto it till it straightened its translucent wings and took off again, the sound of his beating wings rich and healthy humming through the air.

"Pretty things, aren't they?", he spoke softly, maybe a bit more quiet than usual, and was still looking after the bumblebee.

"Yes. They are fascinating creatures."

He might have imagined it, but her voice was a bit feathery as well. Somehow he felt not yet like looking at her again.

"I think so too, and luckily so. That's how a bumblebee once saved my life."

Her astonishment was obvious in the stretching silence. It wrested a chocked laugh from Eragon's throat, especially because the issue was so ridiculous.

"I never told you, didn't I?"

Looking back at her he saw that she was completely relaxed again, her features showing nothing of the suspension there had been a minute ago and he felt his own unease crumbling away along with hers. Nonchalantly he laid his hand onto her shoulder as he himself strode forward again.

"It's not a long story and you know most of it already, but we really have to get going now."

Arya agreed with a slight nod, yet her eyes remained curiously upon his face waiting for his tale to begin.

She was a good listener and let him talk till he was finished, what against his own words took them nearly past the last houses besides the way after all. Though when he ended and waited expectantly for her reaction, her former unbiased gaze was replaced by amusement and disapproval at the same time.

"Reckless…", she said shaking her head, but her eyes were not too stern, "If I had known that back then…"

"Reckless?", he laughed in good humour, "Hm. Maybe. But I think you had already enough to chide me for when we met again after that, didn't you?", he laughed again, "Thankfully this bumblebee stumbled upon me in this very moment… Or our story would have met a sudden end, I think."

She didn't reply to this, what made Eragon think. Maybe she was a bit startled about the "our" that had escaped him. It made him wonder as well, but he was far too glad in this moment to have her by his side to find any reasons to worry or to be frightened.

He smiled gently at her as they walked past the last house of the city and the path faded into a broader gravel walk. Taking her hand again and finding delight in her reaching for him too, he led her forward towards the way that led both to the right and left, surrounding a vast lawn directly in front of their feet.

"Come on", he said, expectantly, "I show you where I am at home."

And she stepped with him onto the crunching white pebbles and never looked back.

* * *

><p>It turned out that Arya had been right, after all.<p>

Eragon had led her around the flawless lawn and into the shade of the forest. Not for long though, as they just stayed a hundred feet or so underneath the canopy of trees before the shadows on the ground lightened again. They stepped out into a small clearing and then she stood right in front of the house whose top she had spotted from her own balcony already.

"So, this is where I live", she heard Eragon saying to her left, "It's not much, but just right for me. Do you like it?"

And she did. It was a small house only, only one story high, but for sure enough for one alone. And she could see Eragon's character in it. It was painted off-white and wooden ornaments were left bare, but carved into a modest, yet elegant form. Nor was it strictly square, as if the walls wouldn't be what dictated its form, but rather were the rooms protruding into the outer shape. Many round or oval forms were flowing in the frames of numerous windows and the door and on a bar just underneath the roof plants and animals were illustrated – prancing horses, hunting wolves, birds swirling around each other or carrying twigs in their beaks, but foremost two dragons with intertwined necks directly above the door; and entwined all around them were flowers, trees, vines and blossoms. The style reminded her of the houses she had seen in the north of Alagaësia, his former home, yet an elfish influence was unquestionably visible in the soft lines and the silent reference to nature. She could understand that he felt comfortable here.

"Yes, I do. Did you build it on your own?", she asked him with her eyes still scanning the rich details.

"Partly. I had help with the rough construction of course, but I installed the interior and furnished it all on my own. The decoration is of younger date. I added it when the house stood already for many years – and when I was more skilled with shaping wood and stone."

He laughed at that and Arya turned to him again, finding him already searching for her eyes. Sometimes she was surprised herself that his intensive gaze didn't feel uncomfortable anymore. She quickly became used to his presence and closeness again, as though the time spent apart wouldn't have existed. He was easy to like, easy to spent time with, and even easier to laugh with – something that had never changed for her.

"We have a bit of time left…", his voice was a bit lower now, she wondered whether she had unsettled him with her silence, "Would you like to come in for a look around and a cup of tea?"

"Very much."

And so they covered the last few metres to the beautiful nutwood door that Eragon opened immediately; apparently locking doors wasn't usual for him. He stepped aside gentlemanlike to let her go first.

She couldn't say she was surprised much about the room she saw then, not after seeing the rest of the city and the style that permeated through it. A strangers maybe would have been surprised of the interior, as nothing she saw let the room look like the dwelling of someone so high-ranked as the Leader of the Dragonriders. It looked very common, very usual. But also very homelike.

Most of the house was really only one big room, the living room it seemed, and only three doors to their right led out of it, four when she was counting the unusual one on the opposite of the room as well that apparently led outside again. Her gaze wandered through the room, taking in every detail.

"Feel free to walk around", she heard Eragon and looking at him she saw an amused smile on his face, "I will bring the tea."

"Thank you. But I won't be too inquisitive. I promise."

His smiled widened just before he opened the first door to the right.

"I have nothing to hide. Be as inquisitive as you want to."

But he was through the door before she was even able to answer him. His disappearance gave her a new perspective though, a new silence, a solitude that allowed her to take in her surroundings with sharper eyes. Maybe that had even been his intention. He was giving easily and generously; sharing was important to him, especially with her, she knew that much. She suspected that he really wanted her to look around, to learn more about this rooms and so learn a bit more about him. She decided to grant him that favour and began to leisurely stroll through the room.

The first thing she noticed was that it was very bright, sunlit even in this hour of sunset thanks to the numerous windows to her left – the wall there indeed was more window than wall. And there where wasn't a window the walls were covered with shelves holding books and scrolls and even more.

Furthermore the room was intelligently sectioned: Here to her left an oval table filled the open space in front of all the windows and shelves; and even though it was only provided with four fitting chestnut chairs, she guessed that it could hold at least six people if necessary.

The opposite half on the right sight was quite a difference. Two steps led down to a depression in the floor and from the parquet floor onto a thick beige carpet and a cosy fireplace. The couch and armchair there were cushioned thickly and yet another small table aside them covered with a beautiful patterned tablecloth. There was a vase filled with a bouquet of dried wildflowers standing in the middle of it.

The stones used for the fireplace were only roughly treated gray granite without any decorations. It fit the whole concept of what she saw before; it looked natural, unspectacular even, but was nicely done within that range. Beyond that depression were the three mysterious doors that led out of the living room. She guessed by the space this rooms already took in that there couldn't be much more behind them than maybe a small kitchen, a bath and a bedroom. But she couldn't know for sure.

The opposite wall though was something entirely else even. It wasn't a wall at all.

A protruding wall separating the room obscured her view partly, but didn't hinder her understanding. She looked there for a long time or better said looked trough it – through a window so vast that you could call it a wall of glass. There the fourth and vitreous door allowed you to go out onto what seemed a large terrace.

But something else had pricked her curiosity already.

Decoration was quite scarce in the room. There was the vase with wildflowers standing on the table, a fairth of the mountains and the valley, obviously before Minuial was even built, over the fireplace, a tapestry of the rainbow-coloured father of the dragons was spanned between two doors, and light yellow Erisdars with elegant attachments were evenly spread through the room.

But there was something else. There was plenty of… decoration an a commode just in front of the dividing wall.

Arya recognized some of them even from distance, but still her feet moved her closer.

Not much more than ten steps were needed to cross half of the room – and arrive in front of this kind of shrine. Many fairths were standing there, all of them colourful and happy, all of them adorned with the same picture frame – dried stems of sedges were braided around the rectangular objects. A modest way to frame a picture, but in this case a very personal one. It seemed to be handmade, each and every one of them.

There was a picture of Roran and his family, and a very early picture, as Arya guessed Ismira to be maybe five years old. They were all standing in a small but homey room, a room with a broad mirror as well, Arya combined. It must be, because Eragon had never seen his niece this old with his own eyes.

Arya herself had seen Roran from time to time during the last decades and had finally grown fond of him and his family. And now she too looked with sadness twinging in her heart into Roran's smiling grey eyes. She had once seen them so much older, this last time she had visited him. But she understood very well why Eragon had decided to remember him like this.

Sighing her eyes swept to the next frame, but found no solace there. It was Nasuada who met her gaze, Nasuada in a shimmering green dress with pinned up hair and a curly strand dangling on her forehead. She sat on a dark wooden desk and gazed intently straight ahead, her hands were folded in front of her and her face was both kind and understanding but also stern, graceful and full of authority. She was the Leader of the Varden, the High Queen of Alagaësia – and a friend. This was the message the picture whispered to her.

It was like this everywhere. All the people of the past were staring back at her, back from a time that seemed so long ago, yet still formed her life like no other before. Most of them had been her allies if not friends as well.

There were Orik and his wife Hvedra sitting on a balcony in Bregan-Hold, someone she deemed his aunt and uncle in front of a modest farm house, Angela and Solembum in a dark room with walls overgrown by thick vines, and Brom sitting on a trunk with his pipe in his hand.

And of course she found herself there as well. Even more. There were three pictures of her.

In one she held a golden lily with careful hands, a gentle smile upon her face and the light of a fire glowing on her skin; she remembered that night very well. In another one she stood with Fírnen on a bare hill, her hand on his shoulder and her silver tiara on her brow; it was the first time Eragon had seen her after becoming queen. She took a long time gazing at the scene and even though it was the only picture after that horrible war, even though she was with Fírnen to that time, it made her feel no happier than the others did. Arya felt her brow creasing; she under stood her reaction well enough, but she didn't approve of it, not at all. Taking a deep breath she went on and instead scrutinized the fairth standing in the very middle. The scene in it was very special and she saw why it meant a lot to Eragon, she saw _what_ it meant to him.

In it she saw herself again, herself and Saphira. The dragon lady had lowered her nose to the height of her face and gently pressed it to her brow while her own fingers touched the smooth scales in the crook of her jaw. Both of their eyes were closed.

Arya was amazed by this fairth as well. The change in perspective did strange things to her. The two creatures in it, two so very different creatures, seemed suddenly so alike, melting together at the fault-line of their hearts and minds. It looked much more intimate than she even remembered, but it was a long time ago and her memories tended to elude her more than once – and of course it was Eragon's fairth, Eragon's point of view. It had been his emotions that had coloured that slate.

Even longer she remained fixed upon this one, long enough to hear a door behind her open and close again and low footsteps coming closer. She was just about to turn to him when her gaze brushed over a smaller framed memory standing modestly in between the numerous others.

A woman was kneeling in between a garden full of roses, kneeling on the bare grass with leather boots and breeches covering her legs and knives and daggers at her waist. She held a single rose in her small fingers and took in its precious smell, her eyes closed.

Before she could think or feel more about it a voice broke the silence, but something within her proved to be faster than her mind and made its own conclusions.

"I couldn't stand to let them all simply go. I don't know if this had been the healthiest decision I made. But I didn't dare to… forget."

Finally she turned back to him, but found him staring at his small collection, not at her, his face sombre. She watched him for a few moments longer and tried to unravel the secrets shifting in his eyes, but despite her efforts his thoughts remained his own.

"It took me a long time to be able to simply stand here and see without hurting, but sometimes I think I fool myself by confusing routine with acceptance", sighing he offered her one of the steaming cups he held in his hands and granted her a small smile, a smile much too sad for her liking.

"And then I find myself standing in front of these pictures and recognize that I cannot fool anyone, not even myself. I am still missing them, all of them."

"Not all of them", she spoke softly back, wanting to ease his pain, "Saphira is still there. And Orik, and Fírnen. And me."

Her thoughtful words let his smile broaden, but to her dismay she saw no more happiness within him than before.

"Saphira is with me as always, yes, and she is still and will always be my greatest comfort", he took a sip of his cup, his eyes drifting away from her, "But for the rest… Let's say they are at least alive. That is at least something."

He again smiled at her and she saw the effort it cost him to make it look a bit livelier, but she wouldn't be fooled by him. She understood the meaning behind his words: "_We are alive… But we are not there for you when you need us, are we? It comes to the same, nearly to the same. You are still missing us, just as the dead…" _

She could see his point.

"Come on", he said then, before she found the right words to comfort him, "The evening is beautiful, let's go outside."

He brushed her arm softly with his fingers as he turned away and Arya followed his invitation without another thought. She was still brooding about the framed memories on the commode – about the pictures of herself, about the kneeling woman in the garden, about how it must feel like to lose all of your friends at once… She knew loss of course – she knew how it felt to lose your best friend, your only parent, and again your best friend in a space of only a few short months, and even though she had been blessed with Fírnen to compensate all the misfortune, it had not been easy for her. She could only imagine what it had had to be like for Eragon to sail with strangers into a foreign land towards an unknown future.

Her brow creased without her consent. She felt very much like cursing fate and everything that went along with it; she nearly even wished she would believe in a god to have someone to blame, but, alas, things are hardly ever this easy.

She sighed quietly and tried to let her regret, her pity, cease. She usually wasn't one to gnash her teeth about what was past and gone and she didn't want to begin with it now. And apart from that – he had found a home, a family so to say, his place in life – could she say so much about herself? She wasn't sure. Often when they were speaking it felt as though he was thinking just the same – as though _he_ was feeling sorry for _her._

As absorbed as she was in her own thoughts Arya followed Eragon to the door at the other side of the room without taking in much of her surroundings. It wasn't before he opened said door and stepped aside to let her through that she saw something out of the corner of her eye that caught her attention and urged her to turn her head.

Now she could see what had been hidden from her by a dividing wall before and the sight that met her eyes was so unexpected that she literally froze in the middle of her walk.

In this strangely cut corner of the room – clearly designed for good acoustics – stood a glossy black grand piano, and Arya stared at it for a long silent minute, awestruck by the revelation in front of her eyes and the context that went along with it.

It was Eragon's low chuckle that tore her out of her daze a good minute later. She met his amused face and recognized that she still couldn't fit the obvious picture to work in her mind.

"You are playing?", she asked with more incredulousness and wonder in her voice than she intended to. His smirk got more pronounced.

"It doesn't stand here for the good looks of it, you know."

She was still too absorbed to react to his playfulness, but took a step forward to take a closer look.

"When did you learn to play?", she shook her head, but now smiled as well, "Are you playing good?"

"That is debatable", he spoke with a sobering voice and gentle eyes as he stepped to her side, "Well enough so that you won't have to clamp your hands over your ears, but I am no master. I started learning playing quite soon after settling here. I thought it appropriate to play an instrument, or at least to try to learn, just for my own education. I thought it would broaden my horizon and it didn't take me long to find out that it did indeed."

Arya watched him closely as she always did when he spoke of these times, times that she knew he avoided to talk about, feared maybe even. She tried to see, to understand and learn as much as possible from the few words he granted her and sure enough she felt the heaviness that gripped even herself on these occasions, when she listened to him and saw in his eyes what he didn't speak aloud to her. He was still looking towards the piano.

"I tried a few, but this was the only instrument that I enjoyed playing. I found it helped me to gather my thoughts and feelings when my head was swimming with doubts and fears at the end of the day. It makes me feel better when I am sad and alive when I feel numb. Over time it became routine, an necessity even, to play just for myself whenever I had something to ponder about…"

She heard him taking a deep breath, but he didn't seem unhappy to her. His hazel eyes were warm when they caught her gaze again and she recognized that the feeling it caused within her felt familiar and warm as well.

"This is a worthy way of spending your free time. I am impressed – as I am so often lately", she blinked at him, "Will I be fortunate enough to hear you playing one day?"

"Perhaps", he said grinning cheekily, "I am sure there are far more interesting things still to see in Minuial, but if you insist… By the way, your tea is getting cold."

He was really in a ridiculous mood today.

So she took a sip from the cup of red liquor she still held in her hand and immediately enjoyed the fruity, slightly bitter taste. Of course it wasn't cold at all.

"You are trying to sidetrack me", she was careful to let a decent trace of disapproval accompany her voice, "You don't succeed. I do – I insist."

"Of course. I wouldn't have expected any less of you", he said while already turning and finally stepping out of the door and the house, and Arya followed him swiftly, a grin still on her face.

Five steps later she found herself on a grand terrace made of luscious dark green stones surrounded by equally brilliant seams of blue. She wondered at the uncommon display of grandeur, but then detected what she thought to be the reason for it – most likely the stone had been enamelled to withstand the razor sharp dragon claws that obviously scratched regularly across it.

Because half of the terrace was roofed over by simple rush wickerwork that protected a large – really large – cushion from the elements. This seemed to be Saphira's sleeping place.

"Saphira picked the stones we used here", she heard Eragon at her side, "She said she likes green."

Arya didn't turn to look at him, but was amused by his words nonetheless – but still distracted.

For she watched the ones who awaited them intently and was answered by four jewellike irises blinking back.

Together with Eragon she stepped towards her dragon and greeted him silently; she was glad for the contentment she saw twinkling deep in his emerald eyes and resonating though his mind. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Eragon laying a gentle hand onto Saphira's brow - they were all glad for the reunion after being apart for such long hours.

Arya was surprised and elated when Saphira suddenly came very close to her, lowered her snout and puffed her cheek with her warm breath. She could only smile at the dragon's tender greeting and returned it, just as gently she hoped, by touching the smaller, lightblue scales above her eyes with three fingers.

"Be greeted, Saphira. I hope your stars shine brightly tonight."

"_For sure", _Saphira's amusement vibrated warmly through her mind and its voice, "_They did ever since you came here and I am sure they will shine even brighter when we are all celebrating your arrival later. What about your own well-being, Queen? I hope you are better now than you were this morning."_

Arya was startled by Saphira's words, though pleased with her concern, and turned to her own dragon with lifted eyebrows. Yet she found him looking away from her, seemingly completely occupied with the view over the city. The smug amusement in his mind betrayed his innocent unawareness though and Arya used the small silence between the four of them to display all her not too severe criticism towards him.

"Would you like to sit down? We still have a few minutes."

She started when Eragon addressed her again; she hadn't recognized that he had left his place at Saphira's side to come to her again. He on the other hand seemed very alert and Arya was sure that he had watched and listened intently to everything that had passed between them. But she only nodded and followed him to a small assembly of chairs and a modest table just besides the terrace's balustrade.

They sat there for a few silent minutes, drinking tea, looking at the nice view over the lawn and the city, enjoying the closeness of their dragons, of each other. The sun stood very deep by now, only half of it was still visible and it would probably be dark within the next half hour. Yet the evening's air was still fairly warm and the slight wind blowing through the valley still pleasant.

Arya felt herself relaxing again, the tension of the day's events, pleasurable as it had been, now finally drained from her, leaving nothing but ease and a slight tiredness behind. She took a deep breath of the clean air that surrounded her and tried to think about nothing else.

"I have to say… something bothers me."

But her peace was unstable enough to be already shaken again by such mundane words. Now slightly worried she turned to Eragon and searched for any kind of distress on his face.

"For quite some time now I had lived under the impression that I know you very well, not all of you for sure, but a lot and certainly more than any other despite your dragon", she listened even closer now, surprised by the sudden emersion of such a personal topic and was worried even more, "And this noon all my confidence had been shattered by a single question from one of my employees."

A second later – and to her utter astonishment - she found him grinning at her.

"As the feast tonight will take place in your and Fírnen's honour, Serana asked me before whether there was something special you could wish for dinner, a dish or a dessert you especially enjoy… And I was ashamed, very, very ashamed, that I had no clue at all."

Now it was Arya's turn to smile, rather understandingly than amused, as the look in his eyes now got more and more sober again.

"I thought I knew you so well", he began, "And there I was not even knowing what you could like to eat."

"This is not a very serious lack of knowledge, is it? It is not important. You know the important things of me, as I know of you."

"It was embarrassing."

His stubbornness made her chuckle. And she was glad that her laughter brought some light back to his face.

"If it lightens your conscience: I have no real preference there, so you didn't miss much, there are many things I enjoy when they are prepared nicely. But I do like sweets. And I have no love for sweets that are made with saving sugar in mind. You know, like these indefinable dry crumble cakes that taste like nothing."

Arya stopped herself there before she babbled away even more; she wondered whether she was indeed more tired than she thought. But Eragon didn't laugh at her, actually he looked fascinated.

"So, the tea", he smiled, "I was careful with the honey because I didn't know how you like it… Is it sweet enough?"

She shrugged, but his thoughtfulness about something so inconsequential touched her.

"It is alright", she grinned, "But it _is_ a tad bitter."

They both laughed at that and Fírnen and Saphira, who laid snuggled against each other on her large pillow, chuckled with rasping sounds as well in their amusement.

"No, it is alright. It is very sweet compared to the goods I had with me for the journey. I have seen fruits and herbs on our way, but I don't know the vegetation around here and thus didn't try any of them. You have to show me all of that, you know."

"I know. And I will. Hm", he turned away from her, apparently deep in thought. But as an elf Arya was more than used to such pauses of contemplation and waited patiently for him to think through whatever he was thinking about.

"Maybe I will rearrange my plans a bit", Eragon said mysteriously, smiling when she narrowed her eyes, "You will see. But tell me – your journey, did it all go well? Did you find us without problems? You haven't said anything about that yet."

"It wasn't too hard finding our way. In a land deserted just as this a large community is hard to overlook – especially when we speak about a whole bunch of dragons. But I had to recognize that I am no longer used to journeys as long as this. Being with Fírnen made travelling through Alagaësia a much easier thing than before; I am hardly ever longer on my way than five days at a stretch."

"I know what you mean. I mean we go regularly on scouting trips with our protégés, just to show them what to watch for on a longer journey, but we have never been longer out of the city than a week or so… To fly all the way to Alagaësia, this is quite something else…", he paused shortly, his gaze drifting aside, towards the setting sun, and said then quietly, "It is… inconvenient… that our time together is always shortened by such long travelling times…"

"Yes, true", she watched his face, the squinting eyes as he looked still into the sun. She knew that her absence burdened him, probably even more than his absence burdened her. But there was nothing else to say.

"Eragon… How are Imara and Miomar dealing? She is so very young… Did she acquaint herself well with the circumstances here?"

Arya knew that this was only a feeble try for distraction, just a simple way to lighten the mood, but it felt necessary to her. She was too preoccupied with everything else today to deal with this particular problem as well. Feeling more apprehensive than probably necessary she awaited his reaction when he finally turned back to her.

But he didn't hesitate and changed the subject of their conversation without another word, telling her about their youngest student's well being, about her traits and recent accomplishments.

They talked about her and her dragon for mere minutes and spent another one in an easy-going silence. And even though they were rather watching the evening passing by and the sun finally vanishing behind the mountains than looking at each other, Arya felt Eragon's presence at her side just as intensively as she guessed he did. It was very peaceful.

In this time Arya finished her tea and broke the deep silence when she placed the cup gently onto the table. The muffled sound that accompanied her action seemed to have triggered Eragon's interest. He turned his head and looked at her again and by the look in his eyes she suspected that he hadn't spent the last minutes as pleasantly as she did. She saw that he had something on his mind and, knowing that she wouldn't escape her fate, smiled encouragingly at him. This provoked a chuckle coming from him as he read her face, but he was sober when he spoke.

"Arya… What Saphira said to you before… I agree with her. You were very quiet when I fetched you. When there is a problem, or another issue, don't be afraid to ask for my help and I will do whatever I can. I don't want anyone to suffer underneath me roof."

"I appreciate your concern. But you cannot help me there", but she knew it was inevitable and so decided for herself before he could even ask, "Getting my proposition through in front of my council had been… more problematic than I thought."

Eragon's brow creased.

"What do you mean? What proposition?"

"Coming here of course", she sight a little bit, leaned forward and placed her forearms onto the table for support, "Some of my counsellors opposed me vehemently, something that is heavy on my mind. I don't think they are right, but I cannot seem to get rid of my doubts."

She kept staring at her folded hands in front of her while Eragon obviously pondered her tale.

"They didn't want to let you go?"

"No."

"They shouldn't. It is not right. It's your decision where you are and where you want to go."

The intensity in his voice was clear. And Arya really, really wanted to agree with him – and also felt Fírnen's applause for his words echoing in the back of her mind.

"Things are not that easy. They had never been for me, but especially as Queen I am now even tighter bound."

This time the silence dragged on longer and Arya, who had still been speaking to her fingers, now looked up to search for the reason for this. She met with Eragon's still stern face and it was more obvious than before that he took this issue seriously. Surprisingly seriously for her – shouldn't it be only her problem?

"Maybe. But you are not only Queen, you are a Rider too. And a dragon should always do what he wants to and be and go wherever he wants to – just as his Rider. When this is not the case – you can see what it can do to those when you look upon my brother."

"Can _you_ really do whatever you want to? Can _you _really go and stay wherever you want to?"

Maybe her voice was harder than justified, because there was truth in his words, she had to admit that much. A moment later she wasn't sure whether this had been the reason for her intensity.

But Eragon wasn't unnerved be her words anyway. His eyes were actually very gentle.

"You know what I mean. Of course I cannot make my decisions on a whim or the fleeting wishes of my body and mind. This is not what I meant. What I meant is the difference between doing something out of your own sense of obligation – or doing it because it is expected, or even demanded, of you."

He took a deep breath. He seemed to make his own assumptions considering the look on her face.

"Don't think I want to interfere with your business. As said – _I _don't want to tell you what you have to do and what not. Just think about it."

"I will. Don't worry, as you see, I am here. I have made my position very clear – I will make it even clearer if something like that should happen again."

He nodded when hearing her reassuring words and his eyes became warmer and calmer again.

"Good."

Then he looked at the table, at least so she thought at first, until he carefully, slowly, but never hesitantly, reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers.

"I only want you to be fine", his voice was quiet, but definite enough to be carried to her ears, "I only want you to be happy."

His fingers tightened slightly around hers and Arya returned his affectionate gesture without shying away from his touch, without even a trace of an uncomfortable feeling arising within her as it always had been at the beginning.

"I know."

They looked at each other for a little while longer in mutual sympathy. And Arya recognized then that _his_ care was one she could accept, unlike her mother's. Maybe because _he _was able to express his concern without making her feel constricted or pressured.

"We should go", Eragon admitted with a sigh, by now even the last rays of light had lost their strength and only a low glow of red lit the sky along with the first stars on the firmament.

Arya nodded and together they rose from their seats while the two dragons were in the air before Eragon and Arya stepped into the house again, already heading towards the dining hall. A thought came to Arya's mind.

"I saw Murtagh at my welcome; he was standing in the last row. But he came."

"Yes, of course. He should have dared to do otherwise", there was some amusement in his voice, "No, I am only joking. He wouldn't be this disrespectful. And, I mean, why should he? He is holding no grudge against you or anything. But I am not surprised that he keeps his distance."

"No. Nor am I. Though you know more about his reasons than I do for sure."

"Yes. And I have the feeling that he all too much likes to avoid everything that reminds him of his past. Probably including you. Wait, give me that."

Arya handed him her now empty cup and Eragon left her side to walk through the same door as before, but this time left it open and allowed her a short few of a rather small but nicely designed kitchen of grey marble. He placed their cups in the sink before returning to her, carrying on their way back trough his house as well as their conversation.

"How is he dealing?"

"I am not always sure. He had a hard time before – he had only had hard times before. Yet he is interacting with his students and all the others well enough, even with the dwarves or with most of them at least. They are indeed stubborn when it comes to forgetting past crimes. These are the things he is not taking easily and that are making it hard for him to finally get over all the misery. So don't feel attacked if he should avoid you; he is only avoiding his own pain."

Arya frowned as she walked past Eragon who held his front door open for her.

"What a shame… Even after such a long time…"

"Yes", Eragon said quietly with sympathy obvious in his voice and on his face, "But be aware that I am telling you the few critical points I know. In general he is far better now. I cannot be sure, but I think that he is so far content with his lot – in the present – and hopefully so in the future too."

"That is good to hear", she decided to let the topic fall now; it wasn't really her business anyway, "Another question: Do you always dine all together? Or is it just because of me and Fírnen now?"

"That varies. It is no obligation to attend the meals, but there is breakfast, lunch and dinner ready for everyone of us who wants to come. In the end this means that most of the Riders and many more are dining frequently together, just out of convenience. As do I", he laughed at that, his voice echoing through the part of the forest they were crossing at the moment, "I have only rarely the time or inclination to prepare food on my own. And of course I can by far not cook as good as our cooks do."

"That would have been my next question. Who is cooking for you?", she was careful with questions like this and even more careful with her own expectations. But what she saw of the city for now seemed not to be liable to the outworn prejudices of men. She wouldn't have expected that anyway, not under Eragon's guidance.

"Volunteers; everyone who chose to. Nobody is forced here to do something what he wouldn't want to – only to do _something. _Everyone of us here has his work and function. That is the only way a society like this can work out."

Arya nodded her understanding. She knew this concept very well.

"By the way", he turned to her with a wide smile on his face, "Of course we are too late now, but I will talk to Serana and make sure that you will get whatever you wish for dinner next time. So start thinking about something. Or of all the desserts you like."

How ridiculous. Ridiculous enough that Arya had to laugh, to really laugh at him.

"Eragon, it's really not important", she was still shaking her head, "I am sure I will like no matter what kind of dish is presented to me."

"No", he said with a very firm yet mild voice, again more serious about it than she thought necessary, "I want you to get exactly what you want. This is the least I can do. I can only so very rarely do anything for you."

She stared at him with wonder at his words, words that she hadn't expected, and couldn't even react when he raised his hand and caressed once along her cheek bone with very gentle fingers.

They kept on walking along the way together.

* * *

><p>It was a long time ago that dinner in the Great Hall had been this well attended.<p>

Every Rider and every dragon and nearly all of the others were present to dine and talk with their most highly regarded guests. Former students of theirs came to greet Fírnen and Arya and talk about their accomplishments, every elf in Minuial insisted to honour their Queen, and even more longed for a few words with one of the oldest of their Order.

Eragon watched and listened for a long time and waited even longer to stop his protégés from monopolizing her attention. As curious as all of them were, no one missed or ignored him as he stood up, all the humans, elves, dwarves and urgals at the three oval tables where nobody had a constant seat and everybody sat together as equals, nor the dragons that partly dwelled in the hall, partly laid underneath archways of every size to watch and feast with the others with only their heads and necks inside.

He spoke of old times at first, of the bond between all the races that had been formed during and after the war against Galbatorix – and of the one that had fought along his side all the time.

He honoured Arya and Fírnen for their accomplishments in the hard times back then and as well for their gentle work with the youngest of Riders in Ellesméra where they prepared them for their apprenticeship and their long way towards Minuial.

He welcomed them again to their home and spoke more than once of the friendship that connected the four of them – a speech that was more personal than what Arya was used to, but seemed not uncommon here, at the other side of the world.

"I can speak only for myself, but I think not only I feel honour and gratitude for having you with us", he raised his goblet of red wine and now spoke directly to his guests, "So let your days with us be filled with joy as well. To Fírnen and Arya Dröttning."

And all of them drank to them, without excepting.

His gaze never left her face.

When Eragon sat down the conversation within the hall arose quickly again and Arya had only time to grant him a short, but seemingly appreciative smile before she too was occupied again.

But Eragon never stopped watching her while plates of food where brought to the hungry folks.

She was looking very beautiful in the light of the candles that made her skin, her hair, even her long, deep black eyelashes glow faintly. She sat just a few places away from him, wearing still the fine tunic she had been given from an elven seamstress from Minuial in the morning.

He had spent the whole day with her, a pleasurable day for him, and by now was so used to her that he could even detect her warm fragrance from all this distance between them and the slight note of bath oil that could never cover her own natural scent.

He was glad for this long day and their togetherness, but he had to recognize that keeping a formal distance to her had been harder than he had expected. On the other hand he wasn't even sure anymore if it was necessary to do so. In moments as this, when he was at her side but never truly with her, he had missed her just as much as though she wouldn't have been there at all.

And he couldn't help to recognize that he started feeling in a way again like he hadn't felt for a very long time.

Or what he had felt _all _the time?

His thoughts and emotions obviously were clear enough at least to one of them.

"_Oh little one…"_

He smirked even at the tone of Saphira's voice. Was she proud of him or was she pitying him? He could hardly tell.

"_I cannot help it, Saphira. I want her. I never wanted another, only her, all along."_

"_I know", _a mental sigh accompanied her words, "_I sometimes think that I knew even better than you did. But I didn't want to start with it, with something that had once been so very painful for you… It is better this way – for you to see it yourself."_

"_That it is."_

He focused again on the one all his current thoughts were centred on – and this time she noticed his dedication. She sat in front of an untouched plate of food, just as he did, and kept looking back at him for a very long minute.

Her eyes, deep emerald green but clearer, purer than every gemstone, were resting upon him, steadily, quiet, untroubled and affectionate in a way that he was still far from taking for granted.

In this very second he had to remind himself very hard that he wasn't all alone with her in this sea of soft light and sound.

And even softer feelings.

* * *

><p>….<p>

Is there something I can say that would count as a decent apology? If there is, imagine I said it to you ;)

In deed I just fell prey to distraction… A reread twilight again after two years of pause and needed a few weeks to get re-inheritanced again…

I know this chappie is a bit more general than others, but I just had to honour minuial with a decent look around. And arya should know what she is missing, isn't she?

I indeed can promise PROMISE you another chapter at the latest on the 6th January. (I am on vacation for two weeks from christmas on and will really kick my own ass as hard as I can so that there will be another one ready before the year is done ;) and I will finally read the deluxe edition of inheritance then, I really need to refresh my own impressions of the characters…

And I plan on proceeding then quickly (and finally,,,,,, ) with Eragon's and Arya's true lovestory…

See you later! And thanks a lot for all the amazing reviews, keep them coming, I need them!

;) Greetings, AryaNuanen


	14. Chapter 13 - Bonfire of Dreams

Eragon certainly was privileged – that was at least what he thought of himself.

If fate grants you a chance just as this, if it grants you just two days in your life spent with one you cherish, then certainly you are blessed. And he had been granted exactly that again – again and again.

Still she was there, sitting beside him on the cooling blanket of soft grass…

"You are looking better today, have I told you that already?"

Now her gaze, lost in the swirling lights of fire before, found his and spread warmth within him so much more intensively than the flames ever could.

"Did I look so bad yesterday?"

He couldn't miss the amusement in her voice and smiled in return. But he wasn't in for ridiculous talk right now.

"There was an inkling of exhaustion behind all your curiosity and eagerness yesterday; today it seems to have all but vanished. Did you have a nice day?"

"That I had. It was a pleasure to see you teaching – even though it was a very unfamiliar sight for me", she grinned a lopsided grin at him, "Old habits die hard."

Of course he wasn't the youngling she had known any longer. He chuckled darkly.

"Sure… Lessons were easy on me today as well. I don't take it for granted anymore that these puppies act like sane persons who you can speak reasonably with – it is always a delight when they do exceed your expectations then. Have they at least been polite to you? I couldn't help to recognize that you have been beleaguered nearly all the time."

"I am fine enough", Arya gave back, a small reassuring smile gracing her features, "Though I am not used to such open displays of curiosity anymore – people here are not as… conservative as they are among mine people. Even as Queen I am usually not as beleaguered, as you called it, as I have been here as a guest. But rest assured, none of them had crossed the line."

"That is good. And I am sure you are right – it is my very purpose for our Riders to be more trusting and open-minded, though not naive of course. Yet it is a stretch sometimes to get even the young elves to open up a little bit; I am glad when you say that I had succeeded in doing so."

As an answer Arya only inclined her head in her own graceful way, her eyes now roaming again their surroundings – and all the people that were here with them, sitting just as the both of them on a soft, wide lawn of lush emerald green grass – though its colour was drenched by the bright lights of the flames.

It was Fírnen's and Arya's second evening in Minuial – just yesterday they had arrived in Eragon's city – and again Eragon had arranged an event in their honour, as was only righteous regarding their high-ranked guests.

In a sprawling meadow just a few hundred yards east from Minuial's borders most of the citizens of the valley had come together again to celebrate, eat and drink around an enormous bonfire – as had become custom among them, as Eragon had told Arya earlier, whenever a Rider and his Dragon came back to Minuial from a longer journey.

And a very special bonfire it was – for the fire that consumed the great logs of wood was dancing in front of their eyes as colourful as a rainbow, every flame another shade of green, red, yellow or violet. This was not done by magic, as Arya was told, but by filling holes and slots within the wood with various salts that dyed the flames in its own tint.

Dinner had just been finished when the sun had started to set and then Fírnen had had the honour to enlighten the bonfire with an emerald torrent of flame. And in the shifting lights of that awe-inspiring fire the Dragons and Riders had then seated themselves, the last without the comfort of chairs or tables, but that as well seemed common among them, and drank of juice and wine.

In the beginning the Riders had gathered around the bonfire and had listened to songs and stories of whoever wanted to share his thoughts, but then the crowd had scattered rapidly to small groups or couples. Just the Dragons had stayed close to the fire to enjoy the sight of the colourful light doing wondrous things to their equally colourful hues. Saphira and Fírnen were bathing in the light and warmth as well, laying side by side and sharing thoughts and images with their brethren.

By now the last traces of daylight had vanished; night surrounded them and the stars were shining brightly in a nearly black sky crowned by a crescent moon.

Eragon and Arya had left the circle of light as well and now sat at the brim of the meadow where the lawn heightened to a slight slope just metres before the leafy trees reconquered the ground again.

A longer pause in their conversation had for some time now become a comfortable silence and Arya started a bit when the sound of movement rustled beside her. But Eragon met her slight alarm with a warm, amused smile, now laying on his back on the slop with his arms crossed underneath the back of his head. His eyes left hers before anyone uttered a word and drifted upwards. She watched him sighing in what seemed contentment and then followed his gaze towards the blinking stars.

For some minutes they both examined the beauty of the cool silver lights, but even though the stars themselves didn't look any different here than they did in Alagaësia, Arya still found the constellations unnerving.

"Do you remember what we were talking about in Ellesméra?", she asked and again met Eragon's gaze, "The stars are not the same here. None of these constellations have I ever seen before."

"That is only logical and, as you said, I already told you so", in contrast to his words he kept his voice very mild, treating her with adequate care, "Why is it unsettling you so much?"

She raised her eyebrows at his question, but thought even herself that she may act much more confident than she actually felt.

"You think I am unsettled?"

A grin appeared on his face and he nodded twice, slowly and annoyingly self-confident.

"Yes, that's what I think. You have once been better at cheating, you know", he grinned at her still, but waited eagerly and a bit anxiously for her remark. He didn't want her to feel bad.

Arya lowered her head again, watching the bonfire some distance away yet directly in front of her. Her voice was very low when she answered.

"I have never been "better at cheating" you, you have become only better in reading me, I am afraid", she looked at him shortly, eyes twinkling, but still not completely at ease. She sighed once.

"I know not for sure. I guess it just reminds me of how far away I am from home – and how far you are indeed away when I am in Du Weldenvarden. I have never been so far from home – so far from everything I know and I am familiar with. And…", she grimaced now and glanced at him with what seemed to be shame, "I mean… Everything is so foreign to me, the stars, the plants, it makes me feel… lost, I guess. As if I wouldn't be able to find my way home again."

He frowned in confusion and sat up partly, worried about her speech that was so unlike her, yet Arya didn't react to him; she still looked straight ahead.

"What are you talking about… You have more senses than just your eyes, Arya, and you know that very well. You could not get lost, even if you were to be abandoned in a land a thousand miles farther away. You know that. You know that you would always find your way home."

He reached out for her when she didn't answer him immediately and brushed his hand once softly down her upper arm. Then at least she turned to him, yet still smiling in that shameful way.

"I know I am talking foolishness, don't think too much on it."

But one side of his mouth twisted downwards.

"That won't be possible, I am afraid. But if it stresses you that much – so come on, let's do something about your ignorance", he said confidently and as cheery as he could. He twitched at her sleeve to underline his words, "Come here and see."

And he laid back again, making himself comfortable while waiting for Arya to follow suit, a little worry about her unease still in his heart and mind.

And she did, slowly she seated herself a bit closer beside him and then let her back rest against the soft grass, her legs still pulled up, her hands folded on her chest. She tried to fight back her sudden indisposition with a few deep breaths and only succeeded in doing so due to her concentration and the warm feeling and sounds of the one beside her.

"So maybe we start here", Eragon said, ignoring her silence and raised his arm, aiming at some bright stars slightly left of them, "Can you see the constellation there? Five bright stars and three smaller ones?", than he smiled at himself for of course it would be difficult for her to detect what he was pointing at from her point of view, "Here."

He took her right hand with his left and held it up as well, pointing at the stars with both their hands.

"Can you see them? They are roughly arranged like an animal with legs and a long neck or head and due to that", he smiled, "we decided to call them The Dragon. And also because there is one other star above them, do you see it? You could make a line to that one and count it as the Dragon's wing."

"I see…", Arya's voice was faint, but eager.

He let their arms down again, giving her a last gentle squeeze before ceasing his touch. Turning his head to look at her, he saw that she was still brooding over the skies and watched her for a while, hoping that she was fine.

And indeed, when she looked back at him her eyes were brighter than before and her cherry red lips were forming a small smile.

"Can you show me more, please?"

He laughed at her curiosity with a deep voice. He felt very much like playing for a little more time – the look of her laying beside him, the appealing form of her whole body and her angled legs was very pleasant to his eyes – as was the look of her beautiful face and the way the black strands of hair were framing it so softly. The sight of her at his side struck a deep chord within his own body, the sound of it vibrating through his limbs. He had to take a deep breath to clear his thoughts.

"I will. I will show you everything we can see."

And he did. He talked to her about the stars and the names of the constellations, the occasions and people who had led to their naming and how they used the stars to find their way throughout the hinterland of the mountains.

"But I will show you some of these things later, when we are indeed out there, it will prove to be more fruitful."

"Where will we be going?"

Eragon turned to her, smiling cheekily and winking.

"Oh, here and there… We will see."

She scowled slightly at his answer, to his immense amusement, but refrained from asking any further.

To placate her, he decided to address something that once had amazed her greatly. He hoped that she would still hunger for more information on that particular subject.

"As you seem interested in the stars and the skies, there is a theory you might be interested in."

"So? And what kind of theory is this?"

"You remember what I told you and all the others in Urû'baen about our flight to Vroengard? About the storm?"

His questions had been of a rhetorical kind - of course she would remember _that_. And indeed – Arya's gaze got more intense with every word he spoke.

"You said that the earth appeared round. And that there had been more stars than one could see from the ground. That the sky was hollow."

"That's right. Now, as it would be easier to show you these things later as well – we have a model in the rooms of the astronomers – I will keep my mouth shut for now", his grin widened considerably as she scowled again and he held up his hands in surrender to sooth her, "But – for the time being, if you agree to it, I would like to give you a small riddle to think about. When you have solved it, or think that you have done so, we will talk further about it. Does that sound fair to you?"

"And if I cannot solve that riddle we will not talk about it?", she squinted, but in good humour.

"That depends. You could give up."

Eragon laughed dearly as she considered his option and grimaced.

"Well, I do not seem to be able to convince you otherwise. So what is that mysterious riddle?"

And Eragon pointed to at the sky again, but not at the stars but at the sickle-formed moon.

"Look at the moon as it looks now, remember what it looks like at other times, and then think of what I told you once. Then tell me this: Why is the moon changing its shape?"

They looked at each other for a small thoughtful moment, then Arya opened her mouth as if to say something – only to be stopped by Eragon who laid one finger over his own lips.

"Don't. Think about it again. And do so without letting your reasoning get tainted by prejudice or convention. Don't let the things you might once have been told tamper with your reasoning – with your logic", he grinned again, a spark shining brightly in his eyes, "I am curious of what you will think about."

"Hmm. Then I will have to think about it very hard, I guess."

"I count on that."

After a last shared smile their eyes drifted away from each other again, each occupied with thoughts of their own.

Arya was still trying to puzzle out what Eragon meant about the moon and its various phases, but even as she did she recognized herself that she would need much more time and quiet to solve this riddle as she momentarily had. But her mind was very determined at keeping her busy with astronomy and right now she didn't feel like fighting its desires – a rare thing for her, but treasured for exactly that. She felt quite at ease.

Whereas Eragon now gazed at the rainbow-bonfire again, thinking about something much more important – and _he_ tried very hard to keep his mind focused on the task at hand and not let it wander too much. But it was very hard for him to ignore all the evidence for her presence that his senses perceived so very vividly. He sighed. He was relaxed, but _he_ didn't feel at ease as much as he thought he should.

"There is something else I wanted to propose to you", he began and cleared his throat slightly.

"Something else, it is?", Arya spoke after kind of awakening from her daze; her tone clearly mocking, "Shouldn't it be enough to spent a silent, comfortable evening in front of this beautiful bonfire with me?"

Eragon chuckled at her witty remark, but indeed felt a bit guilty. Her jest had rooted in truth after all.

"I am very sure it should. But then I do not know how much longer I will be blessed with your presence. I really have to use every moment I have."

For the first time today he reached out towards her, very slowly again, and brushed two fingers down her soft cheek. He watched her for a moment after speaking – watched her face growing sombre just as his and watched her eye lids twitching as he touched her skin.

"I will not be gone _this_ fast", she but whispered as he lowered his hand again.

"That you do not know", he gave back just as softly, "And even because of that I would rather not squander our time together – even though hurrying has become quite foreign to me here. But I digress… What I wanted to say is - as it is, your timing couldn't have been any better. Just some days ago Saphira met one of the wild dragons – her name is Yanimn and she is the mate of Gaidon, the leader of the Wild Ones – and she informed her that one of the females had laid an egg currently and that she wanted to offer it to us."

After speaking he waited a second for Arya's reaction and wasn't disappointed for eyes widened and sparkled with anticipation.

"Another egg… Another Dragon and Rider… And so soon after Imara and Miomar found each other. Did Yanimn speak about the identity of the mother?"

"Not much. On Saphira's inquiry she only said that it was one of the very young females, not more. They have another way of thinking, the Wild Dragons, they often think not as individually as we do – as especially humans do", he admitted.

Arya apparently preferred not to comment his remark – maybe out of her own sense for courtesy – but seemed deep in thought.

"And you want us now to take the egg directly towards Alagaësia when we leave? When will you receive it? And who will bring it to you?"

"To answer your first question: Yes – and more. And I will not "receive" it. And no one will bring it to us", he smiled at her slightly annoyed face, "This… this is your obligation. Every Rider here has accompanied me during his early apprenticeship to Imrath Skulblaka where we honour our bond with the people of the Dragons – to lead the next Dragon to join our ranks to his destined partner. Unfortunately you never had the chance to do so obviously and so I thought you would like to seize the opportunity and come with me. And even better", he added, looking at her with innocent eyes, "We would have some time together – on the road, just like in old times."

"_On_ the road? Not _above _the road?", she asked queerly but smiled warmly enough at him, "But either way – indeed just like in old times."

"Yes… Well, I thought, as you wanted to learn something about the plants and trees that are growing around here – and we have some animals too that you have for sure never seen before – I thought we could leave our Dragons to themselves and travel on horseback?", he shrugged, unsure of her approval, and hastily said, "Of course, if you do not like the idea we could also fly – or run."

Arya was surprised by his proposal – and showed that openly – but obviously not averse to it either as her smile remained unchanging, even with her head slightly inclined.

"It's a long time ago I have been riding a horse – and even longer that I have ridden for a longer period – but why not? It may not be as fast as running, but more comfortable and enjoyable for sure."

"I am glad. So, I would like to start early tomorrow already as not to lose too much time sitting idle around here. Are you alright with that?

"I have no objection. Just - could I choose my horse on my own beforehand?"

"Of course. But rest assured, all our horses have been treated and trained with utmost care. I will show them to you tomorrow. You haven't been able to take a look around our stables in the morning?"

"No", she shook her head, "I was lead alongside the barn on my way to the training ground, but I haven't seen much."

Eragon nodded. He had assumed that much as the training grounds – where Arya had watched him teaching some of the younglings earlier – had been installed just next to the riding arena. This institution had grown in time to much greater significance as Eragon had intended to in the beginning. He was readily aware that at least learning crudely how to ride a horse was important for all of them, even for a Dragon Rider, as often times convention and circumstances could leave you with no other option – and in the very beginning of Minuial they had just needed a place to host their packhorses. But he had underestimated the interests of many elves and humans who had lived their past live very close to this animals and now wouldn't want to abandon their fascination for them. Many of them were now training and shaping their horses in their leisure time; some of the animals had even been brought here for them from Alagaësia.

When Eragon told Arya these things she only nodded in understanding and he was sure she would be one of them too if she were to live here. He was happy that she had accepted this particular offer of his for he needed indeed as much time as possible.

His former revelation had proven to be stubborn – a night of thinking through their situation hadn't been able to change his mind – or heart…

* * *

><p>"<em>Can't you think of anything else? You start to bore me, really."<em>

Eragon laughed at Saphira's words; he knew that she was only joking.

"_I am sorry dear, but I fear I do not even feel like trying to stop…"_

A slight growl now came from between her jaws, but contrary to that harsh sound he felt the soothing feelings within her mind getting stronger.

"_I know not really what to think of it Eragon… I know how you feel – and I know as well how I feel for Fírnen – but I do not know what to do with that."_

He sighed now and leaned back as far as he dared without having to fear to lose his balance. He was sitting on Saphira's back, the both of them returning home after the feast in the Great Hall to Arya's and Fírnen's honour.

"_Yes… But maybe in this case thinking too much through it would be more harmful than helpful. I mean, I am not completely sure either, but then… What _am _I to do? It might be folly to wait any longer… I don't know if fate is willing to give me more such broad hints any longer. If you… if you want, or long, or _love_ someone for such a time – again and again – without stopping… When shall there be the point to finally stop fighting? Shall I just give up because it's not easy? I cannot. I don't think that I have had enough of her already, Saphira."_

A billow of black smoke enveloped him shortly as his Dragon snorted.

"_Obviously not. But do you think she will share your opinion? I am not so sure of that and her concerns would be justifiable enough. After all she _is_ Queen of the Elves and she will return to her people soon enough. Consider this as well, Eragon, consider everything. For even under the best of circumstances your togetherness – and with that your happiness – cannot last for long", _ her head turned around for a moment to look her Rider in the eye and her mind felt even softer, "_I do not want to discourage or dissuade you from wooing her, understand that. I am only scared that you might hurt yourself with your doings – and Arya as well."_

Eragon remained in thought until they arrived at the edge of the city and Saphira headed for the terrace beside his house. He thought long about what she said for there was not only dome truth in it but rather was truth leaking excessively through it and he couldn't just ignore something this vital to him.

But he couldn't help it.

"_Do you know what?", _he began when he jumped off her back and walked slowly up to the balustrade, his gaze wandering westwards again.

"_No. But I am already afraid enough for having a strong foreboding…"_

He laughed at her well thought of words, yet his voice had a drop of bitterness in it.

"_I don't care."_

"_Oh, I knew it!"_

Saphira's tail slashed over the floor – she was clearly agitated – and her hot breath bathed his neck as she came to his side to look beyond the lawn in front of their house – towards the place _she_ was reading herself for night right now.

"_Of course you did. You can hear my thoughts. But joking aside – I really meant what I said. It is the price I know I could pay for what I would win in her. Even a hundred years of waiting, yearning and hurting would be worth to endure just to have a day with her by my side."_

"_Are you sure? Eragon, I will only ask you this for one last time: Are you absolutely sure that you mean that?"_

He knew her question wasn't one to take lightly and so he gathered all the conviction he could evoke inside of him. He spoke his next words aloud – and in the ancient language.

"Yes. Yes I chose today to keep her in my heart – no matter the cost, no matter the pain."

For a short while he fell silent, deep in thought and feeling, and tried to understand and feel all of the daring prospects manifesting in front of him.

"_It comes to the same. I have been acting and feeling this way, even if partly unconsciously, for near on a century now, I can as well start to let it become fully conscious – in both my acts and thoughts."_

He felt Saphira breath in deeply at his side; the sound of the airflow was nearly deafening so close to his sensitive ear.

"_And what of her? If what you say is true, then what will happen to her?"_

"_I know what you mean", _he spoke softly, pressing his hand against her strong side, "_But this is not my decision to make. I can only leave it to her and her alone, cruel as it is. I will be as gentle as I can, you know that, and you know that I would never want to hurt her purposely or out of my own selfishness. Arya will have to make a decision – no matter to what end. If she feels as strong as I do – then I know that she will be courageous enough to make the right one. If she rejects me again – if she does not feel for me as I do for her – then it will be the right decision as well."_

Again his eyes wandered towards the one window beyond the lawn, the one window that held his interest tonight and awoke so much more longing inside of him. He wondered whether she had already gone to bed – there was no light in this dark, but that didn't have to mean anything considering her keen sight – and he let his thoughts wander for a short while. He had never seen her really deeply asleep and longed to see her face when she was dreaming.

"_Alright, I think I should fall asleep right now…"_

A wide grin graced his features, but he didn't turn to look at her as he send her away with the most gentlest of mental touches.

"_Don't stay for too long, little one."_

"_I won't. Just for a little while longer."_

And a little while longer he stayed, dreaming about what had been and what could be.

* * *

><p>And a while longer even had elapsed since he and Arya had uttered a word now, both of them staring at the rainbow-coloured flames again.<p>

Remembering the last night Eragon sight internally at his dilemma. He knew what he wanted – but wasn't sure at all how to get what he wanted. And he was well aware and scared of the effect the pressure of time could have on him – scared to do something stupid, something _rash_, something that would finally tear her irrevocably from his side. His gaze returned to her face.

Arya ignored him for a minute, letting him consciously study her features it seemed, and he saw her fascination for the whole situation in her eyes and on her face, but also a restlessly thinking and judging mind. He wondered what she thought about or what she searched for in this profane meadow as she looked down towards his brethren with more intensity than before.

When turned back to him a slight astonishment had been added to his former revelations.

"Many have come to live here with you… I had forgotten how many… It is admirable that so many had decided to follow their sons and daughters – just as how many others had decided to help you here. And elves as well."

"Yes, and I am very thankful for it. I cannot make this a public place, but I try to keep our gates as open as possible."

She didn't answer him, but looked away again, concentration obvious on her face. He wondered…

"You said there wasn't much choice", she spoke with a voice as quiet as gentle summer night's breeze, "But I see plenty down there. Plenty beautiful women. Good women."

She awaited his answer, searched for it in his very silent face, but was left disappointed.

For in the few seconds he had to answer he couldn't even think of a handful of eloquent words. Her eyes left his again.

"Some of them are courageous, wise, strong and gentle yet – and young as well – and whole. And very beautiful…"

"Yes. I know. I know all of them", he barely whispered with a throaty voice. Still his thoughts were racing in endlessly confusing circles. Arya still looked away from him.

"And if you wanted to… If you really wanted to… you could have nigh all of them, couldn't you?"

It had been quite a time ago that a spoken word had made him feel this apprehensive – he hardly felt like finding an appropriate answer, again, wondering what she wanted to hear from him. After mere seconds that felt like a solid minute of silent consideration he decided to tell her just the truth.

"Yes. I probably could."

His full and undivided attention was resting on her turned away features – and it was because of that that he was able to see the small twitch of her eyelids and lips. The taut skin aside her eyes alone spoke for her tension. He wondered what had ignited this sudden urgency inside of her.

"You said it yourself", he began lowly, soothingly, "If I _wanted _to. I do not want any of them."

It was as though she had been reading his thoughts before. As though she would know already much more than he felt comfortable with. The thought was so very clear in his mind.

_I do not want any of them. I have always only wanted you._

But couldn't make himself tell her about it – not here, not _yet._ She wouldn't like all the things he had to tell her.

And yet Arya's stark emerald eyes were suddenly boring into his with an intensity he could hardly withstand. Yet he held her gaze unwaveringly.

"If I were not here with you…", her voice was so much more gentle than her eyes, "Where would you be now? Where is _your_ place among them?"

He understood what she meant immediately.

"At Saphira's side of course. She would be alone as well – if you were not here", he tried to smile a bit to ease up the tension, "I _do_ have friends here, Arya, of course I have; Blödhgarm for example. Do not worry about me. Of course the younger Riders are more comfortable with staying among themselves – especially at feasts. After all I am their teacher and I understand perfectly well that it is easier to enjoy your leisure time without your mentor seeing and hearing everything you do and say. It is their very right to have this opportunity as well."

She looked away again after he spoke, her gaze drifting over the couples and groups around the fire again.

"I see your point. But still… It is always like that, isn't it? You will always be their teacher and they will always be your students… "

"Yes, that's true. But as you said yourself, there are many others, many that are no students of mine and we enjoy their company as well. But I have to admit that you are partly right", he smiled ironically, "Sometimes it feels as if it would indeed _always _belike that."

She nodded as though he had confirmed what she had assumed from the beginning and again her eyes softened.

"I thought it to be like that for I often experience the same. You are never one of them when you are ruling. I regret that you have to endure this hardship. It shouldn't be like this for you."

"No, it don't want it to be like this either. And so I cherish the few I can truly count as my companions even more."

Then he reached out, laid his hand softly upon hers and trailed his thumb across her skin.

"I often miss the comfort of the ones I once had by my side… I miss my family and I miss Nasuada and Orik – and you. But I am not alone. _We_ are not alone. No matter what hardship there had been in my life that had always been true – I have never been truly alone. Even though that doesn't keep you from still missing the love you know had once been there. But, well, it could all be far worse, couldn't it?", he smiled warmly.

Yet the warmth wasn't reflected in Arya's eyes, even though she turned her hand to intertwine his fingers with hers and gripped them tightly.

"I wish… I wish I could help you. I wish…", she trailed off and now looked at their interlocked hands with gloomy emerald-green eyes.

"You do."

Eragon spoke in a very low voice and inclined his head to find her eyes again. His other hand helped her with the same by curling underneath her jaw to lift her face up, now close to his.

"You are here, aren't you?"

And her features softened even more under his touch and his gentle words. She allowed his contact without even the slightest sign of disapproval until he took his hand away on his own. Eragon only hoped that nobody watched them too closely.

"Do not worry", he spoke on, squeezing her hand again, "I am fine and the few problems I have will work out one way or another. Do not worry, not about me."

_I would rather you would worry a bit more about yourself…_

But again, this were words he couldn't utter aloud – not for now, not tonight.

"If you say so… I will try", she said smiling and winking, her hand still holding his. A second later her attention was shifting he could tell, she seemed to listen very hard.

"Have you seen?", she tilted her head slightly aside, her eyes following the motion, indicating Eragon to look towards the rest of the attendant people.

"Yaela is here", she spoke on, but her gaze lingered on his face – and his reactions, "And she is looking over at us from time to time."

"Hm. Of course she is here, but…", he wrinkled his nose, "I had hoped that nobody would look too closely towards us."

At that Arya chuckled slightly, regaining his full attention.

"I am afraid you hoped in vain… She is watching us intently – even though she tries to hide it. I can see so much even from here", she took a deep breath, "Obviously she hadn't given up pursuing you yet."

"No. But she had never made on open try at it again and so long I will ignore it. For sure she is patient – patient as an elf", he grinned, "She has time enough to wait."

_And she might fear now to have taken too much time, _he added in thought.

Arya didn't react for some long minutes, rather watched Yaela and remained deep in thought. Her behaviour amused and somehow even pleased Eragon. He didn't think she was truly jealous, but she was obviously careful about the subject. He liked the concept.

"Eragon?"

His smile broadened.

"Yes?"

"She is no student of yours."

"Obviously not."

He had to strive hard to keep his face straight. Maybe she was jealous after all.

"So", Arya began, her eyes finding his again, her hand tightening slightly around his, "Why did you reject her?"

"I told you already", his brow creased slightly, "It's hard to put into words. It just didn't feel right to me. I didn't want to."

"But you said you liked her… Maybe it would work out", her voice was very low, "Maybe, if you had given it a chance… Don't you think it would be worth a try?"

Internally he felt like crying out because of her words. Why couldn't she see this truth for herself?

"What am I to do Arya? I cannot feel any desire to have more of her than I already have. Should I force myself to be with her?", he shook his head, "It would mean to put my heart in chains."

She dropped her gaze.

"No, if you are sure… Then of course you shouldn't force yourself to anything. I just thought… Forgive me… I regret that I brought it up."

A gentle smile lit up his features. Once again he reached out and stroked down her cheek with the tips of his fingers. At his soft touch she looked up again.

"Don't. There is nothing to forgive, you have meant well", he hesitated for a short moment, but for her sake he decided to tell her what she wanted to know. He leaned closer to her, speaking very softly.

"As I told you before, I went along with it, thinking the same as you just did, to give it a try… But then, someday, Yaela seemed to think that everything was going very well", he looked aside, uncomfortable, "She tried to kiss me."

Arya didn't react openly to his words, but her face was very straight, and Eragon thought that she was hiding whatever she thought and felt about that. He took a deep breath and carried on.

"As I said, she _tried_. When I recognized what was happening, in this very moment the concept seemed so incredible _wrong _to me, that I shied away from her," he grinned lopsidedly, "I felt like throwing myself to the ground just to get away from her. Then I knew that this couldn't be right for me – that _she_ just couldn't be right for me. I spoke with her about it and – that was all."

Arya nodded, her eyes still silent.

"You have done the right thing. And, again, I am sorry about what I said. I didn't know…"

"Of course not, how could you?", he smiled at her sympathetically, caressing her hand again, "And then there is something else…"

He leaned very close to her and on instinct Arya imitated his movement, their faces now only inches apart.

"What is it?", she seemed confused by the look on his face – he was grinning mischievously at her.  
>"Do you know what?", he leaned even closer, their cheeks touching, his lips at her ear and her black locks fittingly touching his nose. He couldn't feel her breathing.<p>

"I just like dark-haired women better."

* * *

><p>…<p>

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Ok, at least I am back… So sorry for the -looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong wait….

I hope you liked this, even though this chappie is only kind of a fill-in for the next events…. Tell me what you think! I might need some time to really get into things again… But I really try now to post quite regularly to finally bring this to an end…

So guys I do not even try to explain to you why I had to stop writing, but now let's go on!

See you hopefully soon!

Cheers!

AryaNuanen


	15. Chapter 14 - A Leap in the Dark

Travelling – as Arya had known before – can be an annoying and tedious business that sometimes challenges even her patience.

But this time things were entirely different.

This time she didn't travel through lands she had already seen for what feels like the thousandth time. This time she wasn't pressed to reach her destination faster than was possible even for elves and dragons – she could take her time. This time she wasn't on her way to some exhausting courtesy or duty call, nor towards a battlefield, but somewhere she wanted to go. And this time she wasn't on her own – her best friend and her bonded partner were both with her.

Never before had she seen so many things foreign to her all at once – including Eragon's so obviously relaxed and even joyful spirit during the trip.

And now, as they were both looking down into this vast, colourful valley, standing so close to the steep hillside that their horses' hooves were but a step away from the slope, it felt as though the dreams of her past had come true.

After nearly three days of riding and climbing they had finally arrived at Imrath Skulblaka, the Dragon Valley, were the wild dragons lived, hunted and bred.

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In the very early morning after the bonfire feast Eragon had awaited Arya in front of the horse stables as had been agreed upon before. They met with smiles full of affection upon their faces and greeted each other with just as gentle words.

Together they stepped through an already opened double door into a stable aisle flooded by the soft light of daybreak. Some people were already around the place, some brushing their animals or mucking out the stables, and the horses were already fed with grain and hay. Both Riders and others greeted Eragon and Arya respectfully but otherwise left them on their own.

For the next half of an hour Eragon showed Arya around the place and presented her the horses she could choose for her journey. And she didn't take long to make her choice and decided for a gentle and very trusting black mare of middling height called Dorina.

Together they readied their horses for the journey – Eragon had meanwhile brought a long-legged chestnut gelding and had tied him in front of Dorina's box. His name was Winslow, Eragon told her, and though he wasn't the owner of the horse he usually rode him on the rare occasions he needed a horse. They brushed and saddled the animals all on their own – again the lack of servants in Minuial astonished Arya even though she supported the concept behind the only slight discomfort it caused her. In a way she even began to enjoy the natural, down-to-earth-attitude she met all around the city. It was a very, very long time ago that she had had to groom a horse offered to her and she recognized the difference it made – she felt that she could have a deeper relationship with the mare now, something she had always been disposed of whenever someone had handed her a horse just a minute before climbing onto its back.

It was like this with many things in Minuial, sometimes even with the crudest of works, and even though Arya knew that for sure this was arduous at times she also saw the benefits behind it – a life closer to nature, closer to yourself. Yet her daily duties in Ellesméra would never allow her the life the Riders lived.

But such gloomy thoughts couldn't last too long on this beautiful day.

For when she and Eragon lead their horses out of the stables the sun was shining brightly into their faces and the birds were boisterously greeting the new day. The horses were just as eager as their riders – Eragon's chestnut was even scraping the ground with his hoof in impatience.

And then they were gone – side by side they rode through the city, across the main plaza and through the north-eastern outskirts that were leading them into the woods. Many seemed surprised to see them on horseback and apparently packed for a week's journey, but no one stopped to ask them about it. Only Blödhgarm, who they met at the sparkling grand fountain, inclined his head with a knowing smile upon his face. Eragon answered him with a sly grin when Arya wasn't looking.

So after all it didn't take them long to reach the wild forest at the flank of the mountains and from there on their climb began. In serpentines they rode on, following slim tracks through the wilderness. Sometimes the path was too steep for their horses to carry them and they had to lead the animals for a few hundred yards. They drank of small brooks and springs they found on the way, saving their waterskins for later, but never camped on that first day. Both were too eager and enjoyed the ride by far too much to feel tired already.

And of course their dragons were hurrying them forward as well. Even though Saphira and Fírnen kept talk mostly among themselves – they treasured their own intimacy just as much as they wanted to grant their Riders the same – the slow progress of the horses still annoyed them and of course Eragon and Arya could feel that in the back of their minds.

At noon on the second day of their journey they finally reached the mountain ridge, standing higher than every tree. There they halted for a few minutes to enjoy the view of the city and its sparkling roofs in midday sun and the dragons that occasionally circled above them. Arya could see the pride in Eragon's eyes while he watched the spectacle and felt the same welling up inside her – after all she had had her share in this accomplishment too.

From this hour it took them another day and a half to reach their destination.

For a whole day they rode along the flat ridge of the mountains using it as a shortcut to not have to cross each and every valley that laid between Minuial and Imrath Skulblaka. Only once did they have to leave their path when the ridge got too edgy and too stony to ride on without endangering their horses to slip or fall.

The valley they traversed then was completely overgrown by a sprawling forest, but narrow as it was, it took them only a day to cross it. And here, more than anywhere else, Arya recognized the change of climate between the Riders' lands and Alagaësia.

Even though the mountains were high enough to be only covered with shrubs, moss and lichen at the very top – yet not high enough for snow – the weather was warmer and much moister than Arya was used to. And also conifers were rare and only found at the very edge of the timberline.

Below in the valley large broad-leafed trees ruled the forest and shadowed the ground underneath. Their leaves were often larger and less protected than their relatives' in Alagaësia due to the moist and mild air. In their shadows only bushes and cabbage flourished, but as they had no other competitors as their giant neighbours who drew their water and nutrients from deeper earth, this smaller plants grew in great quantities.

The fauna was different as well.

Although Arya had seen and felt many creatures like usual dear and many birds that she knew from her home, they also encountered animals as she had never seen before: The most impressive had been a truly big cat – large enough to bring down a horse – with yellowish fur dotted with brown, black-rimmed dots. The predator kept his distance though and stayed hidden within the bushes – they only found it by feeling his presence with their minds and for only a few seconds they were granted to lay an eye upon the beautiful creature as it shrank away from the touch of their minds and fled deeper into the forest.

Most of the birds were feathered in the most colourful ways and their voices were louder and not as melodic as the oscine birds' were – the forest rang with their clamour and it only accelerated when Eragon and Arya came closer to their flocks.

And often they saw a special kind of dear grazing in the false safety of the shadows. Their dark hide was patterned with striking white, curling bands and their bodies were formed differently, yet they showed the same behaviour as dear Arya was used to.

After a short day of travelling through this strikingly beautiful, foreign forest Arya was not only surprised and astonished by the richness of species it contained, but utterly dumbstruck.

After now two centuries of life – of travelling, learning and teaching – she had thought to have seen most things there are to see.

And now she realized how wrong she had always been. How wrong and unknowing every even most experienced scholar in Alagaësia still was. How complacent they all were.

Thus unsettled with her ignorance she pressed Eragon to tell her more about his experiences of the lands surrounding Minuial. He talked long and lengthy with her and in the end promised to hand her a detailed record of the newfound species of flora and fauna.

They didn't speak about much else for the remainder of this day and night and when they did their topics were mostly profane. Only rarely did they speak about things of importance or of the present, but much more often of beautiful memories they shared.

For the rest of the long hours they were mostly quiet – quiet with their tongues, yet not as quiet with their hearts – and enjoyed the intimacy and togetherness during their journey.

Too many spoken words would have only disturbed the affection enveloping their small group.

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Their horses where panting and their muscles trembling with exertion when they came to a halt on the plump hilltop. The last climb had been stiff and the sun had been burning relentlessly onto their backs for the whole day.

Their riders were just as glad to finally sit straight in their saddles again, abandoning the leaned forward position they had taken on to relieve the horses' backs. But the relieve they felt was only to linger for a short time – for when their gaze drifted downward they met the most impressive of sights.

It weren't the first dragons they had seen on their journey – thrice they had caught a glimpse of one circling in the skies, yet so far away that only the rough colour of its hide was detectable.

"They are watching us", Eragon had told Arya, "They want to know who is approaching their home – and their families."

On this occasions Fírnen and Saphira had greeted their brethren with mighty bellows – and had been answered likewise each time – but otherwise they had refrained from initiating any contact to show an appropriate respect towards the wild dragons.

But now they were much, much closer.

At the foot of the slope a vast plain was spanned until the land welled up again towards the mountain ridge at the opposite side of the valley. The plain was specked with smaller accumulations of trees and boulders from a long-gone time; a raging waterfall at its end became a wide, raging river leading into a sprawling lake in the rough centre of the valley. And, most importantly, at the lake's shore dragons were standing in loose groups or rows and others were floating through the air close by. There were more of them, much more of them, than dragons bound to Riders in Minuial – more dragons than Arya had ever seen in one place.

And all of them were looking up, straight towards their guests, their jewel-like eyes gleaming hard in the bright sun, their gaze, if even readable, both expectant and suspicious. Their hues shimmered in all colours of the rainbow and even more – shades of brown, black and grey were just as numerous as more colourful hides. Some also seemed to posses more than one colour – their dye was shifting depending on the way the light struck their bodies.

For some long seconds Eragon and Arya returned the looks of the fierce creatures with as much calm and reassurance as possible.

Then the air beside them was rumbling and thundering and then Fírnen and Saphira landed at the side of their Riders, enclosing them like two giant gargoyles flanking a gate. The horses were prancing nervously when the predators appeared so close at their sides but otherwise they kept their nerves – the horses of Minuial were used to dragons.

And before anything else could have happened or any of them could have uttered a word, one of the dragons in the valley arose on his hind legs and let his voice rang mightily throughout the land while jumping into the air.

Arya watched the ongoings with a slight if subdued agitation and she, and even Fírnen, turned their heads in surprise towards Saphira as she returned the greeting and jumped into the air and towards the other dragon. But Eragon only smiled.

"Yes…", he whispered just loud enough for the other two to hear, "Watch closely, for this is Chiaran, your and Saphira's son, Fírnen."

And Eragon grinned again as both Arya's and Fírnen's eyes widened simultaneously as they watched Saphira and her son, the two circling around each other in the skies.

"Please wait before joining them, Fírnen. Neither he, nor the others know who you or Arya are. They might react… sceptically."

Arya nodded.

"He will wait until it is time."

"Good. Then let's leave our horses here and then…", he turned to Arya again, grinning wider, his face full of joy, "Let's greet our hosts. We have already left them waiting long enough. And some of them have not yet developed a reasonable patience."

And just a minute later they went down the slope, Eragon and Arya on foot and Fírnen gliding softly down, close to the ground as not to appear too offensive.

Before they came near the waiting assembly of dragons, Saphira and Chiaran landed between the two parties to await them. The younger male moved a bit aside though, not out of fear of the approaching newcomers it seemed, but rather because he averted to stand in between them and his leader and to deprive him his right to receive them first – may it be in good or bad faith.

In the end the four of them stood in line in front of the getting more and more agitated wild dragons. Many of them were stamping their feet or scraping the ground with their talons in clear indisposition and impatience or sniffing the air to get a better impressions of the intruders.

Only when a claret-red, majestic male stepped forward with his head held high, snorting once it seemed as loud as he could, only then Eragon did step forward as well. And he did not bow or kneel, but only inclined his head in appreciation and twisted his arm in front of his chest in the elves' way to pay homage.

All what the dragon, who obviously was the Wild One's leader, Gaydon, did in return was blinking meaningfully with his strong double-eyelids.

In the following conversation Eragon introduced both Arya and Fírnen, declaring also his relationship to Chiaran as he hoped to awake some solidarity in the hearts and minds of the wild dragons who care for nothing more than for their family. Eragon knew that this made Fírnen's, and in a way Arya's position as well, a thousand times stronger than their rank as bound dragon and Rider ever could.

And indeed they reacted excitedly to the news, many of them now sniffling with more intensity and even stepping closer and grunting their welcomes.

Chiaran snorted heavily and tossed his cerulean head, eyeing Fírnen now with an hitherto unknown intensity, but Saphira seemed to placate him with a gentle snort and gaze in his direction.

All of them held their breath as Gaydon stepped around Eragon and came to stand in front of Fírnen.

And even though Gaydon's bearing, his determined gaze, the impressively muscular, lean body and the ferocity and untamableness that only a wild living dragon could ever incarnate to such a degree, were truly daunting even for other dragons, Fírnen held his ground.

When Gaydon stretched his neck, sniffling and opening his mouth to taste the air in front of his green fellow, Fírnen straightened himself to his full height, holding his neck and head high in the air and widened his nostrils. Otherwise he allowed the mighty, but younger leader to get used to his smell.

The tension between them lasted for another minute of mutual observation and Fírnen sniffing at Gaydon's flank in return, but then the red dragon turned his head towards Arya who stood just beside her partner of hearts.

She touched two of her fingers to her lips when the fierce gaze of Gaydon's slanted, scarlet pupils fell upon her.

"My greetings and reference to you, mighty dragon, as well as my whole peoples'. I am honoured to have gained entry into your realm and guarantee you and your brethren the same should one of you ever come to Du Weldenvarden", with that she inclined her head, just as Eragon did before, and also led her arm in front of her chest.

Gaydon studied her for a few longer moments, seemingly satisfied with her words, but with what might as well be a tad of disregard behind his acceptance. A notion for arrogance was nothing extraordinary for the freest of all creatures.

After this obviously smooth exchange between the Rider's party and Gaydon, the other wild dragons finally got more daring as well, now that their leader had had the honour of the first draw. Through the minds of their dragons Eragon and Arya felt how many of the Wild Ones reached out with their minds towards their bounded fellows – in Fírnen's case still mostly warily whereas Saphira was greeted like an old friend. Of course she had raised and protected many of them and the first generation of dragons had once hatched under her care – something the dragons never forgot – nor did their daughters and sons.

Gaydon had now returned to the crowd behind him, but another one, a dark mahogany-brown, still rather small dragon stepped forward to take his place. And she – for it must be a she – carried a white-veined caramel-brown egg gently between her impressive jaws.

And she stepped towards Saphira, eyeing the two-legged again with slight indifference, and laid the egg very, very gently down in front of her legs.

The two females eyed each other for a minute or two, exchanging only a few words but a multitude of emotions and pictures as was custom among the wild dragons. In the end Saphira reached out and touched her snout to the young dragon, thanking her for both her gift and her sacrifice.

And now also Eragon stepped towards her and bowed deeply, saying aloud what Saphira had impressed before in representation of the Riders and the people of Alagaësia. On Saphira's sign he was allowed to pick up the egg from the ground. With a new Rider's hatchling in his arms he led his gaze drift towards the other dragons and again bowed once to show his gratitude.

It didn't take long after that for the wild dragons to scatter – dragons never had had much sense for lots of fuss or what they deemed unnecessary gibberish.

Only Fírnen was still in the centre of attention as neigh on every dragon wanted his share to get to know the newest family member. Meanwhile Saphira was in the air again and her son at her side.

"_We will come after you. We might take some time…",_ she grinned with her mind, _"But with the slow dear-animals you insist to ride we will catch up soon enough."_

"_Do what you must", _Eragon answered his dragon lady, his joy obvious in his thoughts, "_Take your time. You deserve it – it had taken now long enough for your family to be finally reunited."_

And her mind softened as well – her thankfulness was nothing to be expressed with words and so she let her emotions speak for herself.

With a joyous yowl Fírnen jumped into the air, still surrounded by others of his kind, and joined his mate and son.

Chiaran observed his sire with delight – but also with indecision; so much was visible for Arya through the reflection of Fírnen's thoughts and observations and she tried to reassure her dragon and give him the courage he needed – who could blame the young one after all? The situation wasn't easy for any of them.

She herself was torn apart between joy and regret, as for obvious reasons neither reunion in this wondrous realm could last for long.

"I think they will have much to talk about…"

She nodded her approval as Eragon's voice rang softly beside her, yet her gaze lingered on the dragon family that flew farther and farther away from them…

"That they will", she smiled, "The wild dragons are different… They are very fierce. And very… tough-minded."

"Yes… They are in every aspect even more… _dragon _than our bounded partners are. They are _untamed. _It makes them a bit raw, so to say, but there is a certain beauty, an appeal to it – to all the ferocity._"_

"That there is for sure," she agreed, finally looking at him and the gleaming egg in his arms, "I am impressed and glad to have seen and experienced what you have shown me today. I am very grateful, Eragon. And I will never forget it."

His eyes softened and again he inclined his head.

"So I hope for you to have even more unforgettable moments during the remainder of your stay… I will personally see to it."

Her smile widened at his words, even though, or so he thought, she might not have understood everything he wanted to say with them.

And he promised himself then that he would make her understand – to whatever end it might lead.

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Their horses' feet only covered a humble distance before the sun began to set – their riders were far too absorbed in their thoughts, in reminiscing about the day's events, to lead them effectively through the woods. And so Eragon and Arya decided to settle down for the night earlier than they ever had on this trip, yet neither of them had any objections – especially since their dragons were still renegade, tending to their own business.

They ate of cheese and bread they had brought from Minuial but also of fruits they had collected on the way down towards this valley. Besides apples and plums they had also found bright coloured, both sour and sweet fruits. One of them resembled a strikingly orange tomato and its very soft flesh tasted as sweet as sugar. Eragon told Arya, who expressed her liking of the foreign fruit, that they had called it and its tree Kaki. Eragon watched with delight how she enjoyed the taste of them.

For during this trip he had already made his own discoveries – and even though he was more than pleased by the interest Arya had demonstrated – his final conclusions weren't much of a delight.

He had observed her very closely, judged the fascination in her eyes whenever they uncovered another miracle of his home, the joy this whole venture brought to her and how she revelled at having an opportunity to learn and see so much.

Behind her eagerness he could see the longing inside of her.

He didn't know what her everyday life was exactly like in Ellesméra. He didn't know how often she was able to go her own way to see and learn – to make new impressions and experience the world surrounding her.

She had talked of course about her home during their time together, but only a little and when she did she talked about politics, about the problems she faced every day, the discussion with the other regents and also with her own council. Never she spoke about her own projects – or whether such projects existed. Sometimes she spoke of walking in the forest and traversing the same in the skies on Fírnen's back, but not more. When he once tried to gain some more information on that issue she had subtly circumvented to give a straight answer.

Eragon wasn't sure why. Did that mean that she didn't want to share her personal matters with him? He doubted that. Or that she found her leisure time activities irrelevant, too profane to even mentioning them? Or that maybe there was just no leisure time left for her at the end of the day?

He was not sure. But he feared it was the latter.

He didn't feel comfortable with confronting her directly with his concerns, but as he watched her sitting beside him, her face caressed by the warm lights of the fire and the shadows dancing in her eyes, he felt compelled to talk to her – to care for her.

"Arya…", he started with a low voice, gently waking her from her own contemplations, "Can I ask you something?"

She looked up and held his gaze for a moment with eyes both gentle and wise.

"You know you can. And you usually don't bother to ask for my consent beforehand."

"No", he answered, smiling, "But this isn't a usual question either…"

His face got serious again and so did Arya's. Concern and anxiety took the place of her smile.

"Arya… I have tried to watch and listen as good as I can and yet I still might be wrong – and I know I am putting my head far above the parapet with asking that – but please let me voice my concern for your well-being."

He faltered for a moment when she lifted her eyebrows, but resumed with determination.

"I have been watching and listening to you for quite a while now and I have been wondering… I might be wrong, as I said before, and you are welcome to correct me if I am. But I just have to ask you: Are you well… are you _happy _at home? Are you still pleased that you had taken the throne?"

For a moment she only looked at him.

"I admit it is some time ago, but… Didn't I answer that already?", she asked in a very casual way that made Eragon think that he had indeed touched a sensible point. She had in fact answered this question once, back then in Ellesméra – answered as she would define it.

"Yes. But I think you had told me everything, everything, just not what I wanted to know."

He leaned towards her, closely, until his face was just a dozen of inches away from hers.

"I know that you are doing your duty, you always would, and I respect that, I really do. But… what of… what of _you_? Are you sure that you have a life of your own, Arya? I have known and still know many men and women in high positions and I know what their obligations can do to them… And I would loath to see you among the bad examples, you know."

He felt the weight of his words heavy on his shoulders, pressing down on them in that little circle of light in the dark forest.

Never before had he spoken so forthright with her, never before had he breached that carefully placed barrier they had both respected by unspoken consent.

And deep in Arya's eyes he could see the uncertainty that unsettled her just as much as him. He could see her thinking, struggling for words, a very, very rare thing for her, and he then decided to speak on before she could even think of retreating into her well-trained shell of self-protection.

"Do you remember what we spoke of the last time we said goodbye?"

She remembered. She remembered an uncomfortable evening – and an even sadder night later – spend on a knoll at the coast of a gramineous ocean.

"No", she answered after a moment of consideration, "I do not – as you didn't tell me what we were talking about on that evening."

A slight snort of him elicited a even slighter smile of hers.

"So is it time _now_? You said you wanted to talk with me later, that it was an important thing to talk about…", she paused for a second, rethinking her memories in consideration of his stunning and still unanswered first question.

"Yes, it was this question I have been pondering even back then – this one and even more, a thousand small things that one could never consider without thinking about the rest."

He cocked his head and watched her still suspicious face with great care.

"Arya… For nigh on a hundred years I haven't seen you… How can it be that you are still the same? Why hasn't your _name_ changed during all this time?"

And her eyes drifted aside and he saw how she slightly creased her forehead.

"And another issue I have", Eragon spoke on, "Yet probably one related to that, is… A long time ago you told me you wouldn't want to return to live in Ellesméra. You said that you disliked how things froze in time in your peoples' magical realm", and for the first time that evening he tenderly touched her cheek with his fingertips, "So why did you go back then? Why did you tie yourself even tighter than before?"

"Fate decided differently", she answered immediately, simply, dispassionately.

"No. Not fate. You did."

A tinge of sorrow appeared in his otherwise soft voice and Arya looked at him again with eyes wide yet devoid of any expressions.

"I have been talking with Fírnen about this once… why my name hasn't changed as yours obviously had…", she shrugged her shoulders, "You are partly right with what you said, I guess. I have ruled mine people now for many days, months and years – time that passed by faster than I thought and without many changes – just as it always had in the realm of the elves… So there weren't much changes for me either."

Eragon remained silent for a few moments, watched her and how indifferent her face seemed to be. He reached out, touched her chin gently with the tips of his fingers.

"And that is exactly the reason why you wouldn't want to go back there… How do you feel about it now?"

And her face remained indifferent.

"It doesn't matter what I might think or feel about it – it doesn't change a thing. It's my obligation to stay there."

"Arya…", Eragon chided her, sighing, "Such talk will get us nowhere ... I am trying to help you here", he smiled, "Or rather I am trying to find out whether there is help needed or not – and I cannot do so if you do not help _me."_

"There is no help needed. So talking won't help much either."

Yet Eragon's lopsided grin got only wider.

"I try to find out… So am I allowed to not believe you?"

At that she shook her head in disbelief and clear criticism – but she smiled now and not too slightly as well at such stubbornness.

And Eragon's adamant gaze finally made her give in. With a sigh she started talking, even if reluctantly so.

"It is as I said before: It is my obligation and I know better than to… to _mock_ about it like an adolescent. Of course there are moments and days you don't always only enjoy what you are doing. I am sure it is no different for you yourself, isn't it?"

"No, it is not. And if what you said is true than my concerns are for nothing, but I am not convinced… If I am not wrong than the last debate you had with your council has haunted you for over a three weeks flight and beyond that – and not kindly so. Do you enjoy what you are doing, Arya? For I could not imagine it for myself, doing politics all the time, arguing with people who mostly have nothing but their own selfish plans in their minds… No, I could not see myself as a politician over any length of time. And my concern is that you do force yourself too much. I don't want you to be unhappy. I don't want you to go to waste there. There are… alternatives – alternatives that still would allow you to fulfil your services towards your people."

He leaned closer to her.

"Arya… I see you and with how much elation you experience the world around you, how much you long to see and feel and learn everything there is. But you have never, never once spoken with elation when you are talking about Ellesméra – not for a long time anymore. You did when once you showed me your home, before the war… But lately I have the feeling you don't want to talk about it anymore and that scares me."

He leaned even closer to her, searching the shadows that danced behind her eyes, and cupped her cheek again, his fingers caressing her skin so softly.

"I am scared, scared for the flame there is within you to be smothered if you have to endure much more hardship… I have seen older elves, elves that seemed devoid of any emotion – they are betraying their own heart and still think they are doing the right thing with it. I do not want you to become one of them. Your mother had been right you know", he smiled sadly as he remembered Islanzadí's words, "So little of the pleasant things in life have you yet experienced, only ever hardship. I don't want it to be like this for you. I want you to be happy. Please believe me that this is the only concern behind my questions."

For a long, very long moment they only looked at each other, both of them surprised and touched. Eragon at how much more emotional his talk has gotten, much more than he had planned it to be, and Arya at the depth of his compassion – and at how definite his observations had been.

"Eragon… What are you saying… There is nothing to worry about, no need to worry about me. I am fine."

But he looked at her as though she hadn't spoken. He lowered his hand and instead took both her hands into his, holding them softly yet firmly and shook his head, never looking away from her eyes. Not until Arya lowered her gaze.

"I know about the things you are speaking of, Eragon. I know them too well. I know as well that this position isn't one I would have chosen for myself in the past. And I do have my weak moments, weak nights, after hard, arduous deliberations, when the day was long and even less fruitful… Sometimes… Sometimes it is harder than at other times to be what I am… Sometimes I do indeed regret…"

She faltered, looking back at him, looking deeply into his eyes that got even graver now. She felt his grip tightening, enclosing her fingers firmly, reassuringly. He knew, of that she was sure, how hard it was for her to talk like this – to _complain, _to be _selfish. _She took a deep breath.

"Sometimes I think of the times before Urû'baen… I think of the days I fought, ran, loved and hated in this damn war… It were hard times. One should think harder times than they are now. But sometimes I do miss them… That cannot be right, can it?

For sure my life had been… more rapid back then. I have not moved much this last century, just as everything else lies in a false sleep in Du Weldenvarden. Yes, I had known about the risk, but still it is a sacrifice, and a small one at that, that I am willing to take to help my people. I had paid higher prices before for my position, much higher and much more painful prices."

She closed her eyes for a moment and Eragon took the opportunity to speak.

"That you have. And you should have let it end back then."

His fingers again found her skin, caressing along her cheek and then ran softly through her hair.

"You should have come with us… You should have contacted me immediately when Fírnen had hatched for you…"

"Fírnen… He as well changed something within me. It was not so obvious in the beginning, but maybe even more so over time…", she seemed so deep in thought and Eragon was startled as she leaned slightly into his hand.

"I have doomed him to live a life that is unusual for a Dragon this young… His surge for freedom is greater than mine. He reminds me of myself sometimes, when I was young and wanted nothing more than to run away to escape my mother's clutches."

She snorted gently, dropping her gaze again.

"When I was young, I was trying for years to convince my mother that it was not necessary for me to take the throne…"

"I know, Arya. I would have loved to hear the arguments Däthedr had used to convince you. It must have been good ones. I am sometimes angry at him for that, you know."

At that she laughed and took his hand away from her cheek to enclose it again with her own.

"Oh, I sometimes think he is angry at you as well. He doesn't like the way you are distracting me, I think."

"Then tell him from me that I think you need some distraction. _Much_ more of it even. Maybe you would feel better then. But…", he sighed, "After what you said I am not wondering anymore why your _name_ hasn't changed…"

He tried to smile again, seeing her eyes darkening.

"Have you never thought about… quitting?"

"No. Not earnestly."

"So that means you _did_ think about it?"

But she shook her head, smiling a bit sadly. But, strangely enough, Eragon had the feeling that her regret was directed at him.

"We all wish from time to time that we could but escape our responsibilities… But no, as I said, mostly, I am fine."

Eragon chose not to answer to that. He took a deep breath to calm his thoughts.

"You could fulfil your obligations here, you know. Have you ever thought about that? Not as Queen of course, but still you could do your services…"

"But I _am _Queen. And I will not leave my position because of some sporadic weak hours. They belong to life as well."

And suddenly there was steel in her gaze and her voice was hard and Eragon knew that she had enough, that she would not give more away, at least not now. He nodded.

"I understand – even if I do not like it – but I understand. And I am thankful, very thankful for your openness."

And her eyes were warm again.

"I know, I know you do. You always did."

For a long moment they looked at each other, more sadly that anything else, yet also so very gently.

Then, as Eragon felt as though he couldn't bare the ache in his chest anymore, as he felt like begging if he could only make her stay, he gave one last soft pressure to her hands before letting go. He stood up and walked to his saddlebags, retrieving the new dragon egg from within them. With utmost tenderness he turned the egg in his hands and enjoyed the way the light from the fire reflected on its surface, the sight soothing his troubled mind.

After a few minutes of silence and immobility he more felt than heard Arya rising to her feet and, listening more closely, he heard the soft _thuds _of her leather boots touching the dry earth as she came to his side.

"An unusual colour", she spoke, eyeing the soft caramel-brown of the cobweb-like patterns underneath the egg's hard surface, "Not one of great brilliance, but of warm elegance… I am curious about who will be destined for the hatchling."

Her eyes widened slightly as Eragon swiftly turned towards her when she but had closed her mouth, his gaze intense.

"When do you plan on leaving us?"

A moment of silence greeted his words; Arya seemed slightly taken aback by the sudden change of topic, but adapted swiftly.

"One day or another will make no difference, but… Maybe in four or five days we should start readying ourselves… The way home is long."

Eragon nodded without judging her words and turned back for a last glance at the warm weight in his hands before again tucking it away in his saddlebags.

"Our time is indeed very limited then… ", he but whispered, "As you have already guessed – my name _has_ changed. I have seen, heard, felt and did lots of things here that I had never seen, heard, felt or did before. Even during the war – or even since Saphira had hatched for me – my life had changed swiftly in a very short time, yet what I am now is at least just as far a stretch from the man who once left Alagaësia behind him…", again he turned to her, his eyes severe, "But nevertheless… There are some things that seemingly will never change for me… I am not sure if you have already taken a guess of what I am talking about, it is obvious, in a way."

He smiled warmly when he read the slightly incredulous gaze of hers.

"I am sorry, I know I am talking in riddles… I only want you to know – there a things I like to talk to you about, things that concern you as well… But I would like to wait for a little while longer, if you are agreeable, for tonight seems… inappropriate to me. But be reassured – you will know soon enough – and certainly before we again have to say our goodbyes."

"No, I cannot see what you are talking about", Arya said, "You have grown. You have grown and I am not able to read you as I once had been able to…", she smiled with something like tenderness in her eyes, "I am proud of you, Eragon, even if I cannot see or understand all of you right know."

A low sound of amusement left Eragon's throat at her words; he took a step forward, his face only inches away from hers. He studied the lights shifting in her emerald depths and with delight he recognized how calm they were, how relaxed the muscles underneath her skin, despite his proximity. Still smiling he raised his arms and gently enveloped her cheeks.

"It seems so strange… that I should understand more than you do… But I do", he but whispered and leaned his head down, touching his forehead to hers, "I see clearly. I see you here in front of me. I see you."

The shadow of remembrance flashed through her eyes and a tremor rushed through her limbs. And she did not resist as Eragon laid his arms around her and drew her in. His cheek pressed gently against hers, he whispered:

"I see you, Arya, and that won't change – even if a whole world would stand between us. But I will miss you – dearly."

It didn't take long for her to react to his words and to his tenderness, he felt her arms around his lower back, enveloping him as well. His eyes were drooping without his consent by the comfort she brought. He took a deep breath and tasted the warm perfume of her skin.

For long minutes they remained locked together like this and let all the pain, the desperation, melt away in the soothing proximity of each other and the warming touch of their bodies.

Without stepping away Arya finally drew slightly away from him, turning her head to look at him. Her eyes seemed so bright to Eragon, too bright and too anxious.

"Are you alright, Arya?"

She lifted one of her hands, touching his face, running her thumb along his cheekbone.

"I am so glad to be here. I haven't realized that I have been so empty, so empty to feel so full now…", she blinked once, smiling sadly, "And I shall miss you as well."

And she leaned into him, her breath brushing over his skin for a moment, and then she kissed his cheek, ever so softly, ever so reluctantly, and hid her face afterwards with embracing him again.

Touched, Eragon felt her sorrow and her affection gripping him.

"Don't be sad… I am here."

Driven by instinct he began to sway gently, taking her along with him and finding only little resistance from her to do so. It didn't take them long to find a mutual rhythm and a low humming then accompanied their first small steps, Eragon's voice barely audible even for en elf's keen ears.

Before long he sang an old song to her, his voice a whisper in her ear, like wind caressing the leaves of a high tree without disturbing the silence, cradling her against his body while their dance carried on. Barely they were moving their feet, but swaying in slow circles, comforting each other and Arya was very still as she listened to his singing, her eyes closed, letting herself fall into him as she so only very rarely did.

When the song ended they found each other's eyes again and none of them was able to bare much more, so much was obvious to Eragon. He let go of her, taking her hands in his, and looked down onto their intertwined fingers.

"It's been a long day… We should rest."

"That we should", Arya agreed, following his gaze.

Smiling, Eragon looked up again, giving her a gentle squeeze before letting her go.

"Go, lay down. I will join you after getting us some fresh water."

She only nodded, respecting his request for some silent minutes in solitude. She would need them as well.

"Don't go too far", she whispered and turned around to retrieve her sleeping roll from her saddle bags.

Eragon watched her and felt the strain in his heart only worsening as she left his side. Sighing he turned away, rummaging around in his bags for his waterskins and, finding them, left the glowing light of their fireplace to get fresh water from the nearby stream.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAE ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Neither of them found sleep easy this night. For a long time they laid awake, their gazes finding each other from time to time and yet they spoke not a single word.

It was the darkest time of the night when Eragon finally, slowly sank into his waking dreams.

He was only barely awake as warm fingers enclosed his own and when he tightened his hand around them, he was already sleeping.

* * *

><p>Ok, I will say nothing now about the time that had elapsed since I last posted something…. (shame on me…..)<p>

But be reassured: I am thinking a lot about this FF, a lot about Eragon and Arya still, and I WILL (someday…) finish this fanfiction (and if it shall be the last thing I do! ;) )

So stay tuned, more will come! ;)

Hope you liked this chap, we will have more talk (and arguments) about Arya's queenship, but now we are finally moving apace towards the most exciting chapters. I hope I will get them done as good as I imagine them to be, but we'll see…

See you!

Greetings

AryaNuanen


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